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2.31^, 1:^ A.B .Walter, at J Office, Jjjjniofl FOul-'irl*’ 


\ CiY\'2 O 



THE 


FISHEE EOT 


B Y 


WILLIE TRITON. 


** The eonmion thingg of life are the best stuff for description.” 

N. P. WlLLIB. 


BOSTON: 

WHITTEMORE, NILES & HALL. 
1860 . 


■pZ3 

.173 U 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by 
WHITTEMOEE, NILES & HALL, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District^ Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



stereotyped and Printed by ^ 

W. F. DBAPEB, ANDOYEB, MASS. 

. I . ! :r ^ L I r : I ( 




4 


7 


■ /^O 



THE FISHER BOY. 


CHAPTER I. 


** Sleep on, sleep on ! Pale manhood’s dreams, 
Are all of earthly pain or pleasure ; 

Of glory’s toils, ambition’s schemes 
Of cherished love, or hoarded treasure. 
But to the couch where childhood lies, 

A pure, unmingled trance is given. 

Lit up by fays from seraph eyes. 

And glimpses of remembered heaven.” 


Bulwer. 


It was one of those lustrous days of March, that beam no 
where else with so tranquil splendor, as upon the Island 
and Cape shores of New England. That section of the coast 
in which our scene opens, thanks to a dawning spirit of pro- 
gress, had lately received the boon of a public road. This 
social innovator winding meekly with the sinuous line of the 
shore, revealed to the traveller a nook of country which, up to 
this, had nestled a mere by-corner, in the world’s great 
crossings. 

Near where we stand, the gracious highway crosses a tiny 
brook. The streamlet is of modest pretensions, but like a 
pure, unfaltering character, its crystal waters have been the 
sweet dispenser of many blessings. Among these is the free 
welcome with which it has ever greeted to its bosom the strol- 


( 1 ) 


2 


THE FISHER BOY. 


ling cattle of tlie quiet neighborhood. And the tireless cur- 
rent for the noble use of privileges bestowed, is now receiving 
the well done of the faithful servant, by being advanced to 
greater usefulness ; for not unfrequently, the panting beast of 
some way-worn traveller plunges into the pebbled ford, and 
there slakes its thirst in grateful adoration for Nature’s boun- 
tiful gift. 

Upon the time-worn bridge, under which the gliding rivu 
let, like the ceaseless passing of time, was wending itself 
homeward to the fountain whence it issued, stands in careless 
attitude, a youth. He is leaning gently against the slender 
railing of the arch-way, and gazing with fixed attention upon 
the running waters below. What invisible power could thus 
enchain him so long in that position ! Perchance, his eye 
was first stolen by the speckled trouts in the golden brook 
below, until musing upon their skittish motions. Fancy had 
lured him to her bright realms, where the heart-longings of 
youth are pietured in the bland hues of Imagination. Ah, 
bright Imagination, kindly Divinity, that softly liftest the 
leaden curtain of earth, and revealest the universe of the 
soul ! Who would exchange thy airy pinion for the iron ear 
of sense ! Who quit thy fairy regions fiooded with the beau- 
ties of a magic creation, for the prosy fields of terrestrial 
life! 

But lest too near approach arouse the boy from his reverie, 
we will while away a moment’s interval, by creeping up the 
brown knoll hard by, and fiinging a glance upon the surround- 
ing prospect. 

The scene spread to view, although not graphic, is yet 
mildly picturesque. Amid here and there homely features, 
elements may be deteeted in a subdued form, of deep beauty. 
Especially when swimming in the quivering azure of a golden 
summer day, the sweet loveliness exuded, loading the breathed 


SURROUNDING SCENE. 


3 


Atmosphere, as with fragrance, is in sympathy with the ten- 
derest emotions of the soul. ' 

But let me attempt an outline sketch. 

The surface of ground gently variegated, is curiously 
wreathed with hill, dale, meadow, and* lakelet; which are 
here and there interspersed with coppice, just to relieve the 
baldness of aspect. On either side of the back -ground, strips 
of the verdant pine, or of pine interwoven with the more deli- 
cate oak, stretch embracingly around, at one point rising 
toward the dimension of forest ; at another, falling oflP to mazy 
swamp wood. These woodland arms, stretched wooingly 
around, hide from view the sharp line of the horizon, except 
at a single point looking to the South. Here our duteous 
rivulet, after plodding a long weary way, through swamp, 
woodland and meadow, beside lowly banks, embossed with tan- 
gled grasses (save where it expands into pebbled fords) until, 
gliding by the spot where we stand, it winds and doubles in 
serpentine course, through a sedgy marsh, and, a I length, 
stealing through the surf-packed beach, nestles secuicly in the 
bosom of mother ocean. 

Through this inspiring vista, which has gradually widened, 
to make room for the changing passages of the persevering 
stream, loom a number of small craft, riding tidily at an- 
chor, in the open bay, the blue waters upon which they sit so 
jauntily, appearing to rise in the far off horizon, to a greeting 
with the clouds. 

Looking more closely, we observe dotted here and there 
upon elevated sites of ground, the dwellings of the hardy fish- 
ermen. These form most of the inhabitants of the settlement. 
Their lowly abodes are shaped so nearly alike, that but for 
slight differences in size, you could easily believe them to 
have been run in the same mould. But in respect to color, 
the contrast they present is striking ; for while a few have 


4 


THE FISHER BOY. 


their shingled outsides bedaubed with pitch stained with red- 
ochre, after the manner of the Dutch ; the rest have been left 
to take such hue, as off-handed Time, with his elemental paint- 
brush may have deemed fit to give. 

In this cursory survey, we have purposely kept in reserve 
a single residence, differing immeasurably from the rest. 
Indeed, in comparison of size, as well as liberal appropriation 
of grounds and decorative culture, it swells from them all, in 
the majestic proportions of some lordly manor. So marked is 
its superiority, as to arrest strongly the attention. Approach- 
ing, we find it an imposing quadrangular edifice, presenting 
here and there a dash toward the architectural. A pretty, 
quaint portico looks demurely from the south front, and the 
uniform gable-roof is crowned by a graceful ballustrade. 
From the rear, stretches languidly an F, one part forming 
the spacious kitchen, and the other an omnibus for house-hold 
duties. Crowding near is the cosy granary room, and, apart 
from this, the handsome carriage house. 

Just across the newly laid out road, which vexatiously runs 
so near the house, as to intrude on domestic privacy, stands 
the amply garnered barn. This, so to speak, venerable ser- 
vant of the mansion, besides being the grateful home of the 
ever-cared-for farm-stock, has often served as a witching 
retreat to lure blithe childhood, to the sweet play of hide-go- 
seek. 

Adjoining this quadruped-home on the East, is the spacious 
barnyard : its high fence of stakes twined with pine boughs, 
serving the ever grateful kine, either as shade from the fierce 
rays of summer, or shelter from the rude blasts of winter. 
Here, in the season, cosily hid in some wary tuft, nestles per- 
chance a love-entranced robin, while her mate, perched near 
upon a breezy spray, warbles affectionately her golden notes 
in the gushing sunlight. At the South-west angle of the 


THE ORCHARD. 


5 


barn, with its sloped top, is the thatched sheep-cote. Upon 
the peak of its ridge-pole, might sometimes of a scowling win- 
ter day, be seen a late snow-bird peering through the howling 
blast. The awry roof when sleeted with snow, has given 
many a neck or naught slide, from the summit to the greeting 
snow up’on the ground below ; and all with no watching eye, 
save the speechless moon careering through the majestic 
sky. 

Adjoining the house on the North-west, is a large fruitful 
orchard. The trees, of great variety, are set with prim exact- 
ness. A rich esculent garden borders the North side of the 
orchard enclosure, and so abundant and luscious are the vege- 
tables it has time out of mind produced, as to have brought 
high gustatory repute to the mansion table. A numerous 
band of relatives have been wont to look with an eye of com- 
mon inheritance to the earliest greenings of the kitchen gar- 
den ; and many a lone, poverty-pressed bosom, has throbbed 
with pulsations of grateful joy, as a sharer of the timely 
bounty it has unobtrusively dispensed. 

The orchard is thus bounded : At the south-side lies the 
public road, and too public by far in the tempting season of 
fruit-ripening. The coy little rivulet already named, creeps 
noiselessly by the grassy border of the West side. On the 
North, the tall, dark pines rear their mighty heads, and seem 
to look haughtily down upon their less pretentious, but more 
productive neighbors. While an umbrageous lane steals 
moodily along by the East side, as if touched with remorse 
for conveying lustful feet so near the forbidden enclosure. 

The entire orchard is surrounded by rows of once waving 
shade trees, poplar, balm-gilead, and such short-lived species, 
but now so far in their wane, as to stand the merest hulks of 
former majesty. Yet, like benignant humanity, never past 
being useful, they have opened their bosoms to the sharp 
1 * 


G 


THE FISHER BOY. 


wood-pecker, and kindred birds, which nestle their young 
securely adown their hollow trunks. 

Martin boxes, pretty miniature houses, are here and there 
perched upon the ridges of the out-buildings, or stand airily 
upon poles planted in the ground. Around these, the martin, 
swallow, blue-bird, and other graces of the feathered tribe, 
sail and twitter in the season, overflowing with gladness, at 
the wealth of nature and art, evoked for their joy. 

Thus having thro^vn a glance about the surroundings, if 
the indulgent reader will venture with me, we will pass at 
once through the neat front yard, up the time-worn steps of 
the portico, and lay hand upon the latch of the front door. 
The handle of brass is chased, and below is a massive brass 
knocker. The frank portal yields responsive to our touch, 
displaying a broad hall through which we wend into the broad 
kitchen. A turn up the back stair-way, we come to an am- 
biguous defile, whence winding up another flight of stairs, we 
are ushered into the womb-like attic. Placing foot upon the 
open steps leading to the roof, and throwing over with one 
hand the scuttle, a spring fetches us panting from tire upon 
the platform of the “ Look-out.” Instantly, we feel the tonic 
air of heaven a-glow upon our spirits. The wide, varied 
landscape unrolls beneath our ken, ushering upon the sense a 
sweet and inspiring charm. And, as our eye turns toward 
the South, it falls with a sublime thrill, upon the rolling, 
reaching bay, flecked with its white winged carriers of 
plenty. 

The Look-out is the favorite resort of all. It serves to 
relieve the monotony of domestic life ; to give varied zest to 
liappy visitors at the mansion ; to sooth the wistful heart of 
neighbors. Here, the stealthy foot of childhood is wont to 
flee, to enjoy the purloined morsel; here mutual longing 


THE MANSION. 


7 


youth have sometimes hied to breathe beneath the sailing 
moon, the rosy flame of love. But more tender still, is when 
some deep-hearted wife with tearful eye and heaving breast, 
clings with last fading look to the vanishing speck of the cruel 
vessel, bearing away, alas, perhaps forever, her life compan- 
ion. Or with joy and gratitude too full for utterance, she 
hovers around her roseate brood of little ones, all watching 
with beseeching, expectant gaze, the dear, winged angel bear- 
ing to their arms their all of life. ' 

Thus was the mansion like a city set upon a hill. Nor did 
it loom less hugely up'on the vision of the neighboring fisher- 
men because standing in so marked contrast to their own 
shrubless homes. Indeed, it seemed to have absorbed to itself 
the thrift, the rural beauty of the settlement. Even the in- 
mates had accorded them a social preeminence ' verging upon 
veneration. And all eyes were wont to turn toward the glo- 
rious mansion with that sentiment of homage we instinctively 
feel for superiority. 

The regal soul that conceived and gave the breath of life to 
this wonderful home, I can but vaguely limn. Regretfully, 
to me, his rounded life swells up to my memory only in shad- 
owy cognizance. I have seen him only through the mouth- 
piece of tradition ; or more really in the sublime energy of his 
works. 

I know, however, that gracious Fortune exalted him to 
three happy, fruitful marriages. His last consort — a notable 
coincidence — had herself been twice married, and both times 
received the boon of children. But her star did not cease its 
propitious beams here. She continued multiplying her loves, 
honoring the sweet law of nature, that noble exercise but 
blesses the benignant power of giving. 

Thus, their welded souls baptized in a nuptial flame, that 
grew brighter with age, they stood out the fountain-head and 


8 


THE FISHER BOY. 


representatives of a very numerous family. But the connubial 
fire did not scorch within their breast, the glow of active sym- 
pathy. On the contrary, the affection for offspring flowed 
copiously adown the family stream, and, after laving generous 
bosoms, came back impregnated with filial love, to well out to 
amplest grace, the life of the parental pair. 

The loyal head of the patriarchal couple has long since 
been gathered to the realms of the future, but his sublunary 
life still flows as pure as the purling brook amid his broad 
acres. As fragrant yet blooms his spirit, as did once the sweet 
blossoms of his favorite orchard. And his memory continues 
to shoot as green as the mantling grass upon the turfy grave 
that hides his endeared form from mortal eye. Indeed, how 
little of the truly great can ever die. Such leave behind 
them a stream’ of light that broadens in descending the vista 
of years. 

Souls there are, upon which the influences of life act like 
genial breath, that swells to comeliness the ductile glass. The 
gentleman of the manor was largely one of these. Offspring 
did not narrow, but amplified his being. Parental affection 
dried not up, but deepened the lake-water of his existence. 
His family sympathies were not weakened by being multi- 
plied, but strengthened and expanded rather, broad like the 
vaulted sky, that shuts down in limited vision upon the 
standing observer, but lifts its arched curtain to him who 
actively moves. 

His noble character shone brightly in every light, but in 
none more amiably than in the deep interest he showed for 
his children. This continued unabated, even after their ma- 
jority. It is a remembered remark of his, that he wished a 
dwelling sufficiently spacious for all his family, where they 
might abide in continued love and friendship. 

Wedded love ! Divinest flower of earth ! Purest image 


INFLUENCE OP WEALTH. 


9 


N)f heaven ! Thy magic touch transforms the soul, and awak- 
ens illimitable longings to bless ! 

Fortune is diverse in its influence upon character. To 
many it proves a fatal embrace, dwarfing the intellect, blunt- 
ing the moral sense, and blighting the affections. Such are 
gradually drawn closer and closer within the coils of the mon-^ 
ster Mammon; until the native lustre of their souls is crushed 
within them. 

Yet to some, wealth is but the golden wand of genius. It 
breaks forth the outward substance of an inner power, the 
material expression of an affluent soul. It is the tangible 
of a spiritual creativeness, and its reflux is to expand and 
liberalize. 

Such turn their riches to good, if but to satisfy the cravings 
of a noble nature. Their instincts lead them to give bright 
vesture to their ideals. These are the noblemen in the king- 
dom of Success. I need not say that Mr. Damon, the creator 
of the mansion described, belonged to this class. 

Here in this dewy lap of Nature was cradled the child 
which takes the leading part in our tale. What spot more 
genial for the budding of an ingenious soul ! Away from the 
festermg marts of trade, adown the quietude of the country ! 
The landscape grows pictured in the heart. The atmosphere 
flows with melody. Life distils with dewy gentleness. The 
seasons roll with softest harmony. The social hearth-stone 
cricket, the spring-greeting frog, the meek, grateful kine, the 
garrulous domestic fowls, the gleeful swallow, the frisking 
lamb, the choral songsters, and the wave-lashed shore with its 
plaintive resonance, were so many voices of Nature, attuning 
the soul to tender concord, and throwing a silvery veil of 
incense over life that no grim fortune shall ever quite dispel. 

Ah, halcyon childhood ! where all glows with the roseate 
hues of the heart ; where all is sweet with the balmiest fra- 


10 


THE FISHER BOY. 


grance ; where all wafts the mildest zephyrs laden with the 
richest melody. Thou first heaven ! Alas, that thy bright 
illusion should ever be dissolved by the touch of sordid life, 
like a delicious dream dispelled by the pattering of a rainy 
morn. Oh, could we but extend thy empire of innocence and 
beauty over ripe manhood and tottering age, how blessed for 
the world ! - 

Peace to childhood ! Disturb not its golden dream ! Scat- 
ter rather more profusely in its path- way the roses of inno- 
cent joy. 

How much of the good of life depends upon the seeds sown 
in infancy ! How much of its happiness is but the blossoming 
of an early nurture. Then guard well the footsteps of youth. 
Let it be the period for the ingrowing of that purity which no 
rubbing of after life shall obliterate. 

Thus ruminating, our eye returns to the figure still motion- 
ess upon the bridge. But while revolving upon the won- 
drous power that could so arrest the ceaseless faculties of 
youth ; of a sudden, as if electrified by a daring thought, the 
boy rouses with a spring, wheels around, and bounds off in the 
direction of the mansion, with a step so elate, as to denote the 
ending of an inward struggle, in which mastery has imparted 
new-born vigor to the spirit. 

The sudden turn of the boy afforded but a glanee to catch 
his portrait. But the outline rayed forth was distinct and 
vivid. He seemed rather large for one of his age, with exu- 
berant raven hair, high, expansive forehead, dark, beaming 
eyes, but soft features ; fair skin, slightly bronzed in the sun. 
He might not be called beautiful, yet there was something so 
free and open in aspect, and so gentle and lofty in mien, as to 
inspire you with lively interest. 

His dress was slightly unique, not from lack of neatness, for 
it bore a prim air, and was here and there decorated. But 


CURIOSITY AWAKENED. 


11 


there was an odd assortment in the colors, and a queerness 
about the fit, that betokened straitened circumstances, rather 
than want of taste. Indeed, you might surmise it the cast 
ofi* wardrobe, of some rich relative, cut down and furbished up 
by a mother’s pride. 

The eye thus kindled with interest, follows intently the 
receding form until it is shut off* by the concealing door of the 
mansion. 

Our curiosity awakened, the inquiring reader may like to 
know more of the being whom chance has thrown across our 
path-way. We will then follow his footsteps along those few 
years of youth, that form the portal of manhood — that glowing 
period around which are wont to cluster the brightest mem- 
ories of life. 


CHAPTER n. 


In this wide world, the fondest and the best 
Are the most tried, most troubled and distressed. 

Ceabbe. 

It is sombre night. A black curtain palls the heavens ; 
and the lugubrious wind, after moaning through the forest of 
tall pines near, sets up a sharper wail around the corners of 
the mansion, which it rocks with the frenzy of implacable 
grief. 

In a front room, upon the second floor, near the fire which 
is jetting out and crackling upon the ample hearth, sits a 
woman, and by her on a lowly stool, is seated a lad. He is 
reclining his head upon her lap, while she moves at times her 
sympathetic fingers through the dark hair crowning so luxuri- 
antly his fair brow. Mute have they been for moments, 
hushed evidently by the sounding gloom without. But what 
diflTcrent emotions in each the lorn scene awakens ! In the 
boy, it stirs up resolutions strong for the future ; while to the 
woman, the slirieking wind is but the requiem of shrouded 
hopes ! The candle has just darted up its dying flicker, yet a 
bright, though fitful flame is still upon the hearth. As the 
glancing light falls upon the mother’s face, brightening her 
bold, yet expressive features, now furrowed with care and suf- 
fering, you almost seem to have before you the very image of 
grief. 

Mother,” at length broke the youth in a cautious tone. 

“ Well, Walter,” was the mild response. 

A pause followed, for the boy involuntarily trembled, in 
( 12 ) 


YEARNING FOR THE SEA. 


13 


view of the pang he felt sure his 'request would inflict. But 
gathering resolution, he continued. “ Mother I must go to 
sea.” 

As these words fell from his lips, the fingers of the woman 
involuntarily clutched the locks with which they had been toy- 
ing, and a convulsive tremor ran through her frame. 

“Oh, Walter! my son! how could you thus pierce anew 
my heart ! 

“ It troubles me,” dear mother, that you feel so bad about 
it,” said the boy, “ but you must let me go ; I Ve thought it 
well over, and am resolved. 

“No, Walter, never ; I can never consent to it, never. Oh, 
my son, how could you think of such a step 1 ” 

The tone of anguish accompanying these words brought a 
gush of commiseration to the breast of the boy. For a mo- 
ment, he recoiled from his purpose. He regretted in his 
heart, having broached the subject to his mother. But now 
committed, the under-current of a cherished wish swept him 
on. 

A moment’s pause, and he continued in a more conciliatory 
voice. 

“ As much as I love you, mother, and however painful the 
thought of leaving home, still I must go, at some time. There 
is nothing here, that I can engage in for a livelihood. Others 
younger even than I, are off, doing well. And to confess, I ’m 
quite tired of this butterfly-life, I’m leading. I pine for 
action of some sort. I burn to plunge into the great ocean of 
life, and see what the world is made of. Fairly away, and 
I’d arrive at something, one day. Besides,” he added, in a 
more sympathizing tone, “ I can ’t be idle longer, and see 
you struggle so hard to support us. I long to help ease your 
hard lot, and do something in return for all you ’ve done for 
me. Let me go, mother, and I ’ll soon earn money to build a 

2 


14 


THE FISHER BOY. 


nice cottage, when we shall be no longer dependent upon oth 
ers for a shelter.” 

He now met his mother’s eje, with the hope of finding 
there a softened expression ; but the same distressed look held 
possession of her grief-stricken features. A deep sigh was at 
first her only response. At length she exclaimed in accents 
of wild sorrow, “ Go, I suppose you must, from me at some 
day, but never upon the sea. Its treacherous waves have 
already robbed me nearly of my all. They shall not take my 
only remaining hope. 

“ The bones of your grandfather and of three of your uncles,” 
she continued, with deeper pathos, “ are soaking in the restless 
ocean, their precious fiesh, food for voracious fishes. Your 
own beloved father,” and here the bereaved mother seemed 
struggling with overmastering emotions, “ was drowned in very 
sight of our home. Just as his fond anticipations of return 
were on the point of being realized, when his heart was leap- 
ing to fold you for the first time to his breast, the relentless 
waves drew him beneath their lid forever. 

“ They had joyously told me of his coming, and then, when 
my feeble heart was overflowing with gladness to feel so soon 
his endeared presence, they, the unfeeling men ! set down his 
pallid, corse at my bed-side, as if in very mockery of my hap- 
piness. 

“ Oh speak not to me of the sea. Its very name is hideous, 
its memory a curse ! ” 

The heart-stricken widow covered her face with her hands, 
overcome by the up-heavings of bitter memories. Yet, like a 
deep moving shadow, the darkness was but momentary. Re- 
gaining her wonted serenity, she continued. 

“ You spake, my son, of aid in my toilsome path for daily 
bread. Sweet to me is this token of filial love. I seize it 
gratefully, as a fragrant fiower of your blossoming heart. To 


MERCHANT. 


15 


advance your worldly prospects, any hardship would I under- 
go ; but for myself, fortune has no longer a charm. Bereaved 
of those who gave joy to earthly possessions, I feel no longer 
an interest in this world, save in you. I will consent to what- 
ever may promise for your advantage, except going to sea. 
But speak never again of that.” 

These last words struck the boy down-cast. For several 
moments he remained thoughtfully silent. At length in a de- 
sponding tone he asked : 

“ But, dear mother, what can I do for a livelihood, if not 
go to sea? ’ 

Mrs. Carl quickly responded, her face brightening with 
hope. 

“I wish you, my son, to be a merchant. It is a fine 
career.” 

“ But how am I to get a place to begin with,” inquired the 
boy in a doubting voice. 

“ I have thought of Mr. Williams,” replied Mrs. Carl. “ He 
has been very successful in trade. He is a nice man. We 
were intimate associates in early life. He always inquires 
about you with marked kindness, when he comes down from 
the city. Besides, you know, we are related to the family. 
We have only to mention it to him, and I feel sure he will 
take you at once.” 

“ Think never of such a thing,” replied the boy, with spirit, 
“ I know the Williamses are rich, but how often have I been 
told, that their inheritance should of right have been shared 
with us. Can we ask a favor of these people, who are living 
at ease upon possessions belonging in justice to us, as well, — 
who seeing our hard life continually before them, have only 
smooth words to offer as consolation ? If I must beg, let it be 
done of strangers, not of these dignified relatives, whose very 
^liies fre£i2e up my better feelings. True, they always show 


16 


THE FISHEK BOY. 


toward me a kindly manner, but it is mingled with such an air 
of condescension, as to leave no agreeable feeling. And if a 
person of greater pretensions happens present, I am made to 
feel an inferiority deeply mortifying. Indeed, the 'Williamses 
with all their amiable nature, seem ever occupied with two 
leading thoughts ; namely, to magnify themselves in the eyes 
of those in stations below them, or to raise themselves in the 
favor of such as occupy higher positions in society. One thing 
is certain ; they are not pleased to have poor relations hang- 
ing about them ; and for one I mean to take good care not to 
stand in their way. Why, only yesterday I got a line from 
Harriet Williams, saying, I would please use with care the 
school-history she had loaned you for me. How this twinged 
me ! I was believing all the time, that you had bought the 
book. Such a message ! and from a girl ! and one of my age ! 
The furies take the contemptible volume ! I could have scat- 
tered its leaves to the four winds of heaven. 

“ But suppose Wr. Williams out of pity for you, should take 
me with him, what but an underling of charity should I be, 
ever carrying about me a sore feeling of dependence. You 
know I Ve not the learning to bring me forward, and upon 
what friendly arm could I rely to hoist me into a favorable 
situation. Besides, we have no money to set me up in busi- 
ness, after serving out my time as clerk. Then I know I 
should become thoroughly tired of so much confinement, 
Lawrence, who has been with Messrs. Perry & Bumstead now 
these four years, told me the other day very fi-ankly, that all 
is not so bright in a merchant’s life, as it would seem to be. 
That the employment, however dazzling at a distance, is, in 
reality, wearisome and full of vexation; and that he has 
wished himself over and over again back upon the homestead 
farm of his father. The other day, I overheard old Mr. 
Hawes, whose opinion you think so highly of, telling some of 


MERCHANT. 


17 


his neighbors, that mercantile life is the very worst they can 
think of for their sons — that not one in ten succeeds ; that his 
own prosperous fortune was more owing to good luck, than 
anything else — that there are a thousand snares in the city to 
entrap the young and unwary — that such protracted in-door 
life is injurious, if not ruinous to health — and that the unva- 
ried round of a shop-keeper’s duties is calculated to dwarf the 
body, and narrow the mind. But if permitted to launch upon 
some pursuit where success depends rather upon the energy 
of one’s own free arm, than upon chance or a hateful favorit- 
ism, I feel sure of making my way. 

“ As for Mr. Williams, if he really wanted my services, or 
wished to be generous enough to extend us his aid, why not 
proffer me of himself an invitation. He must see how needy 
we are, and he ’s not the thoughtless person to require being 
reminded of a trivial duty. The plain conclusion is, that he 
is averse to having connected with him even in business, one 
who might embarrass him in his social relations. Now, the 
simplest impulse of manliness forbids that I should thrust 
myself upon him. Any choice would be preferable.” 

Mrs. Carl poignantly felt the force of these objections. For 
she had frequently of late hinted to Mr. Williams in every 
way a delicate self-respect would allow, her choice of an occu- 
pation for her son ; and how grateful she would be for assist- 
ance in advancing her wishes. But he always maintained an 
imperturbable silence, or adroitly turned the subject. She 
could not at the time conclude the merchant averse to receiv- 
ing her son, so superior in her own eyes, but the arguments 
of her boy now placed the probability beyond a doubt. With 
hopes so desperate, what could she offer in response ! 

Bitter poverty, how remorseless thy fang ! To a sensitive 
nature, how hard the alternative of asking a favor of an early 
associate now lifted to wealth, and flushed with pride I 
2 * 


18 


THE FISHER BOY. 


A long pause followed. It was broken only by tbe mad- 
dened rain against tbe trembling mansion, or tbe sobbing wind 
around its wide-spread angles. 

A silence there is more articulate than tbe voice of tongues. 
It is when tbe soul sends up from its depths, tbe convictions 
sealed there by tbe fire of nature. Amid the conflicting emo- 
tions heaving tbe widow’s heart, tbe wringing truth was forced 
to her mind that further opposition to tbe resolution of her 
son, were a vain eflfort. But we are wont to cling to cherished 
hopes with a hero’s trust, and the grasp of a martyr. 

“Well,” at length resumed Mrs. Carl in a dejected, but 
calm tone, “ I must, I suppose, see your uncle Damon.” 

“ Uncle Damon, and for what ? ” quickly asked the boy. 

“ To see if he will take you with him upon the farm, since 
you are so set against trying your fortune in trade,” replied 
the mother in a still equable, but slightly ironical tone ; at 
the same time watching the countenance of her son, for once 
since their conversation commenced. • 

“ Why, mother, I am sure you cannot be in earnest. I 
know you better than to think you would have me yoked with 
Uncle Damon upon the old homestead, dragging along a weary 
life of toil, a slave to a host of greedy relatives, and in condi- 
tion a little above the oxen in the stall — a life with nothing to 
gladden the present, nor to afiford hope for the future.” 

■ The vehement tone in which these sentences were uttered, 
arrested the current of Mrs. Carl’s remarks. For she did not 
seriously meditate placing her son in so thriftless a situation, 
as upon the farm, and her sincerity would not allow of trifling 
with her boy’s feelings. 

Mr. Damon jr., it may be observed, was the eldest son of his 
mother with her last husband. On the death of Mr. Damon, 
senior, the management of the home seemed all naturally to 
devolve upon this son. It was accordingly arranged that he 


HOMESTEAD LIFE. 


19 


should have the occupancy of the homestead, and the improve- 
ment of the widow’s third of the estate, as comj^ensation for 
assuming her maintenance. But however noble this might 
be, as a filial duty, it proved in a pecuniary point of view a 
hard bargain. For the entire products of the sterile acres, 
were at most inconsiderable. While the cost of keeping up 
the place, bore as an onerous tax. Then there was the unin- 
terrupted drain from the fleecings of a numerous family, who 
seemed as inexorable, as the locusts of old. 

Mrs. Damon, as before observed, was blessed as falls to the 
lot of few mortals. Her own children, together with those of 
her late husband from his previous marriages, made up a fam- 
ily of rare amplitude. Indeed, she was the centre of a paren- 
tal flock to remind you of the palmy days of the patriarchs. 

The venerable grandmother possessed a warm and gener- 
ous nature. Connubial happiness and numerous offspring had 
deepened and enlarged her sympathies. Time had softened 
the asperities of life, and mellowed her character to great rich* 
ness. She seemed now a sun, beaming alike upon all. Hon 
ored and beloved by young and old, the going down of her life 
was as serene and glorious, as the most beautiful autumnal 
sunset. 

Animated by the purest fealty to the sentiments of her hus- 
band, she continued cherishing the family friendship, he so 
nobly fostered in his life time. But these maternal indulgences 
at length widened off into abuse. From receiving the favors 
as a gracious gift, they came in the end to look upon it, as 
their born right to visit the mansion and partake of its gener- 
ous hospitalities at pleasure. Thus rarely beamed a lair 
afternoon, without seeing at the homestead a throng of merry 
relatives. These maternal parties naturally ended with an 
abundant supper. Then followed in course the st;jffing of 
aunts’ workbags, in which were quietly wont to disapj-njar cake. 


20 


THE FISHER BOY. 


doughnuts, and like delicacies of the table, for the sweet tooth 
of little ones left at home. And such of the company as were 
unprovided with these articles of their own, must have a bas- 
ket of apples, a pitcher of milk, or a batch of Uncle Damon’s 
excellent vegetables ; while each would take a little, “just for 
a taste,” of grandmother’s new butter, so very nice. 

Now, these gracious kindred, did not realize that constant 
drippings will wear away a stone, that many a little makes a 
mickle, that these pet favors, though delightful to receive, im- 
posed in their supply a burden toilsome to be borne. The 
truth is, children of older growth, they had been spoiled by 
over indulgence. Always receiving, but doing nothing in 
return, had gradually wrought within them a degree of compla- 
cent selfislmess, that rendered them quite callous to sympathy. 

As for Mr. Damon, he bore it all with heroic resignation. 
His was not a soul to falter on account of trivial vexations. 
His indefatigable spirit imbued with the disinterestedness of a 
noble example, had welded habit to sentiment in an unwaver- 
ing path of self-sacrifice. Still, at times, his fortitude seemed 
about giving way. Qualities are transmissible, but not gen- 
ius. Mr. Damon inherited the patient endurance of his father, 
but not the old gentleman’s resources of mind. Thus the 
weight of keeping up the establishment bore indeed heavily 
upon him. 

But the numerous sharers in the sweets of his untiring 
exertions, had no manly eye to perceive this. A slight 
change on their part, a course of generous cooperation, in 
lieu of eternal filching, would have lightened his weight. But 
no, Mr. Damon might struggle on, until sunk beneath the wave 
of despondency, for aught they cared, so long as their stream 
of good things continued in uninterrupted flow. Curse on 
the craven spirit that can see a brave soul struggle on for 
another’s good, with no heart in the beneficiary to share the 
unrequited toil. 


UNCLE DAMON. 


21 


Well, in time, Mr. Damon himself followed the way of the 
world, and took to him a wife. She was the very pink of the 
neighborhood, fair as a lily and sweet as a morning rose. 
How she could ever come to look with complacency on the 
swart features of the wiry visaged farmer, seemed marvel- 
lous. But, perhaps, his earnest and truthful life touched a 
sympathetic chord in her breast. For the female heart, 
though robed in earth’s divinest beauty, is not always mere 
vanity. It is not always to be lured by the falsehood of show. 
It craves often nobler aliment than the lure of sense. It, not 
unfrequently, can pierce the fair fading form without, into the 
vital enduring qualities within ; and, sometimes, with a sub- 
lime energy inborn, rise superior to the false conceits of 
society, preferring rather to stake its happiness upon honest 
manly worth, than embrace fair, deceptive appearance. 

This blissful event would, it was thought, reform the abuses 
at the mansion. But it did not. They were rather aggra- 
vated by it. For each relative in turn had very naturally to 
make a courteous call upon the new bride. This opened the 
way for longer visits. By this time, the ancient freedom was 
reestablished. The young wife very naturally desired the 
good will of all her husband’s friends, and she chanced more- 
over to be one of those amiable beings, who will submit* to any 
sacrifice rather than risk giving offence. She buckled to with 
affectionate heart, to share lovingly her husband’s burdens. 
But the more fruitful their exertions, the more freely thronged 
the good folks. They swarmed like bees to a banquet of 
honey. 

Erewhile rosy-fingered Time handed them golden-haired 
nestlings of their own. This sweetened their labors, but only 
increased the pressing burden of their lot. They strove on 
with waning strength, until exhausted nature gave way, and 
left them, a strand upon the shores of life. 


22 


THE FISHER BOY. 


Truth is stranger than fiction. This devoted couple sunk 
to a premature death, the victims of over-worked energies. 

Now, Mrs. Carl from her needy situation had shared her- 
self too freely of the generous exertions of Uncle Damon, not 
to perceive the blight it would cast upon her son’s prospects, 
to doom the boy to an eternal round of ill-requited labor upon 
the homestead. 

Arrested by the force of this conviction, she hesitated long 
before replying. At length, with a saddened brow, she 
resumed. 

“ I can propose but one thing more ; It is that you go to 
live with your grandfather Walfinch. He rarely notices chil- 
dren, but he has always shown marked interest in you. When 
an infant, he even asked that you might receive his name, in- 
timating that I should never regret the favor. But previously, 
your father and his brother, carried away with a novel, had 
mutually promised that to whichever heaven vouchsafed a 
son, he should take the name of the hero. You proved the 
first blessing, and my dear husband was not the man to recede 
from his pledge. Your grandfather seemed to feel the slight, 
but it did not alienate his tender regard for you. He took a 
lively interest in your visits to his house, and seemed delighted 
to have you constantly in his society.” 

“ Yet I never feel happy with grandfather,” replied Walter. 
He is so very positive, has such an iron will, by which he 
would bend everybody to his own way of thinking. Then he 
so worships money. With him, all is looked at through gain. 
I am sure he could never understand my feelings. Indeed, it 
seems to plague him badly, that we are so poor, yet he always 
awaits our asking for whatever we must, just as if begging 
were a pleasure. Why, the room we live in, and the fire 
that warms us, are grandfather’^ Are we always to live in 
such a state of dependency ? If it must be your lot, pray let 


DIREFUL FOREBODINGS. 


23 


it not be mine. Let me get away, and, for once, breathe the 
air of freedom.” 

The earnest tone of his words convinced Mrs. Carl, that 
beneath the sunny temper of her son, there lay a purpose, in 
vain now to combat. 

Argument was over. Hope even sank below the horizon 
of faith. With forehead fallen upon her hand, she seemed 
fixed in a stupor of despair. 

It was now near midnight, and Walter having tenderly im- 
printed a good night kiss upon the motionless lips of his 
mother, retired for sleep. 

At length, arousing, and finding herself alone, the widow 
knelt gently upon the painted floor of the room, and yielded 
to fervent prayer. Yet no words were uttered, no sounds 
were audible. The emotions within were too intense for 
mere outward expression. 

Thus calmed in spirit, she jjrawled into her humble bed. 
But the tempest still raging without, sent a chill of despondency 
to her soul. In a state of mind half frantic with despair, she 
pondered sadly upon the prospects of her son, but no angel- 
hope came to her relief. Imagination deeply aroused, only 
conjured up wild horrors of the deep. Over these, she brooded 
with excited feelings, until her soul trembled on the verge of 
delirium. When, after spent agony, her weary lids closed in 
a quietude of spirit approaching slumber, phantoms of the 
watery deep would rise in direful images to her startled brain. 

Now, she seemed cast with her son upon the angry ocean. 
The tremulous barque, goaded by the ferocious wind and ire* 
ful lightning, leaps madly over the remorseless waves. 

Again, she is clasping her loved boy upon a drifting frag- 
ment of wreck, forlorn cast-a-ways upon the wide waters, cut 
off from the world of life, with no kindred tear to soothe, nor 
human arm to rescue. The relentless waves dash angrily 


24 


THE FISHER BOY. 


against their frail refuge. The lurid sky yawns in mockery 
or knits its brow in dread defiance. A sea gull sails over 
them, flaps its broad wings, sends up a piercing scream, and 
then soars ofi* in wild majesty ! 

I Then, again betrayed by the treacherous element, they sink 
down, down, the watery^caverns of the mighty deep. Scaly 
fishes or begrimmed monsters dart fitfully around, awaiting a 
dainty carnival. Something clutches at her feet ; she startles 
with affright, and is relieved to find herself in her own bed ! 

But the paroxysms of the soul are happily briefi Their 
very intensity sears up the glowing lava of emotion, and 
arrests its seething flow. 

' The fierce storm without at length ceased, and the tumul- 
tuous spirit of the widow, as if beating in unison with nature, 
had, likewise, calmed. 

As she awoke in the morning, the golden rays of the rising 
sun were just beaming through the eastern window of the 
chamber, and all the more sweetly from the rage of the previ- 
ous night. The tearful earth, as if repentant of the elemental 
warfare, was distributing the showery light with prismatic 
glory. 

The depressed widow resumed her lowly duties of the day 
in a more tranquil frame of mind, but with a thought heavily 
fixed upon the future. 


CHAPTER m. 


“ Oh, how he listened to the rushing deep, 

« That ne’er till now so broke upon his sleep, 

And his wild spirit wilder wishes sent, 

Roused by the roar of his own element.” 

Byron. 

The prevailing occupation of a people is wont to give bent 
to the career of its youth. Thus, in agricultural districts, the 
ambitious boy naturally betakes to farming as a pursuit. 
Where mechanical art rules, he lays his eager hand upon the 
craft of the artisan. WTiile amid the hum of manufactures, 
the female even may be seen gracing the loom. 

Maritime borders form no exception to the rule. They 
rather exemplify the truth the more strongly. In neighbor- 
hoods the inhabitants of which draw their life from the ocean, 
the boy does, indeed, “ take to the sea as naturally as a duck 
to the water.” The opening current of his life shoots as uner- 
ringly toward the great deep, as does the mountain streamlet. 

But aside from this almost instinctive impulse, arising from 
hereditary association, there are seductive influences to draw 
him toward a life upon the ocean-wave. 

Roaming about the world is congenial to the ceaseless spirit 
of youth ; visiting different climes, gratifying to its love of 
novelty. Then, to the dweller upon the sea-coast, how capti- 
vating the majestic vessel, crossing daily his visual path- way, 
and walking the waters a thing of life. Of these winged 
beckoners coming from the unknown, and passing away into 
the mysterious azure depths, anticipation is ever painting a 

3 ( 25 ) 


26 


THE FISHER BOY. 


glowing picture, the roseate feelings of childhood but height- 
ens the charm, while fancy weaves all into a web of enchant- 
ment. 

This enkindling passion for the sea, is fanned by many in- 
fluences. It begins to wax in the little tyro, as he makes trial 
of his tiny craft, in the kitchen tub, or out-door puddle. It 
burns brighter in the youth, as he appropriates to himself a 
gayer craft whose qualities he tests with boyish enthusiasm in 
the neighboring pond or adjoining bay. It mounts still higher, 
as he listens to the longing sighs and heart-freighted tones of 
affectionate woman, pining for the absent upon the ocean. He 
observes with envious heart, how the anticipated return 
flushes the life-road of the expectant with the sunshine of 
hope ; how hearty the joy that accompanies the arrival greet- 
ing ; what a wave of happiness it dashes through the household ; 
what a tide of sympathy it rolls through the neighborhood. 
How the heroic is stirred within him at the startling narra- 
tions to which he listens as spell-bound. How keenly is 
excited his ambition at observing the cordial welcome show- 
ered upon the returned from young and old. Then, there it 
the much coveted leisure of the sailor on shore ; who, removed 
from his watery prison, circulates among the labor-fettered 
landsmen with the lordly freedom of a monarch. » 

The whole style and bearing of the welcomed sailor are cal- 
culated to captivate the ardor of youth ; his free and rolling 
manners, genial frankness, open generosity, gay and rustling 
attire, dashing drives, reckless with abandon and swell ; and 
above all, that Neptune-like countenance, so gay, mirthful, 
responsive, as if laved in the dewy brine, and illumined by 
the Aurora of Nature ; the whole calculated to make captive 
the youthful heart, and lure it to hanker after the sea as a 
veritable elysium. 

Yet, however eager the rapturous spirit of youth for a sea- 


SAILOR-LIFE. 


27 


career, there are few who having once laid their bold hand 
upon the restless main, but would leap to turn back to some 
vocation on shore. But a brief space suffices to dispel the 
bright illusion fancy had woven. It is now found, that the 
fleecy cloud had been gazed at from the bright within, not 
from the dark without. There was seen the silvery lining 
touched with the gorgeous hues of the prism — not the leaden 
canopy at once bleak and rayless. 

That soft dream of the aspirant did not body forth the giant 
hardships and bitter privations of a sailor’s life, the soulless 
days on passage, the weary night-watches, the perilous storms, 
the appalling shipwrecks, the horrid diseases in foreign ports. 
It did not vibrate to the ear the polluted language of the fore- 
castle, nor shadow forth to the eye, the fearful mutinies on 
shipboard, nor the brutal fights on shore. That beckoning 
vision did not point out the ideal sailor in a sea-rig ; that is, in 
duck trowsers, baize shirt, and tarpaulin, with a pendent tar 
or grease bucket, besmearing spars or rigging ; or in some 
fierce tempest, when the winds and waves contend for mas- 
tery, shivering under the vessel’s rail, in a desponding pea- 
jacket or surly Nor-easter. 

Now, Walter did not possess so largely as many others, 
this irrepressible enthusiasm for a sea-life. True, he was con- 
siderably infected by the pervading influence of his neighbor- 
hood, but the two powers within, that were foremost in shap- 
ing his career, were first an intense desire to see and know 
the world, but especially, an unappeasable craving to experi- 
ence a larger and nobler life. Over these feelings his restless 
spirit liad of late, brooded incessantly. They had swallowed 
up, as it were, his other sentiments, and had arisen to a 
mastery of his being — had possessed themselves of the helm 
of his soul, and were steering him on to the one point of his 
destiny. 


28 


THE FISHER BOY. 


Few fathers, I take it, not even those who have themselves 
arisen to successful commandership, would elect for a darling 
son, the roving life of a sailor. An experience strown thick 
with hardships, as bitter as the brine of the ocean, they would 
fain save a loved offspring. 

Then what tender-hearted mother could calmly yield up her 
cherished boy, to the frowning perils of the sea. Neither 
obliterating habit, nor iron necessity, ever effaces so com- 
pletely, the maternal sympathy of her nature. 

But aside from these natural dreads for a sea-life, for her 
son, darkened by the loss of near and dear ones, whom we 
have seen the stricken woman lamenting to Walter, Mrs. 
Carl’s pain at the thought of parting from him was increased 
by a succession of peculiar misfortunes that would have over- 
whelmed a soul of less fortitude. They fell too upon her in 
appalling train, moving from their shadowy realms in direful 
bands. 

Mrs. Carl’s first born child, the early blossom of wedded 
love, ere six downy months from its birth, was seized with 
fits. The dreadful event struck all with consternation. Intense 
grief and solicitude shrowded the household. Friends and 
neighbors transported with amazement, hastened to make offer- 
ing of their aid, and to pour the balm of sympathy upon the dis- 
tracted spirit of the parents, but nought could stay the myste- 
rious disease. It advanced with fearful strides, the fits becom- 
ing more and more frequent, until the fair child sank into 
hopeless lunacy. Oh, what a blight fell upon the mother’s 
heart, as this first budding intelligence of maternal love rose 
in joy, but to sink from her vision forever ! 

The second child was a girl. It bore the lineaments of 
uncommon beauty. A striking grace lay pencilled in its 
finely chiselled features. Its dawning soul could not but 
be watched over with the deepest parental solicitude. But, 


A SORROWFUL EVENT. 


29 


alas ! for the impotency of human wishes ! In just six 
months from birth, — appalling coincidence ! — at the precise 
age which first marked the disease of the hapless brother, as 
if bound in the folds of some inscrutable fiat of Providence, it, 
too, began to show the dreaded symptoms. The nurse at the 
time was tossing gleefully the little babe in her arms, and was 
remarking that its tiny life had just reached the brief span 
allotted its pitiful brother, when those remorseless fits had 
seized to devour his tender being, and that she prayed in 
mercy, gracious Heaven might avert so dreadful a calamity 
from the sweet innocent before her, when, oh ! merciful 
heavens ! as if in mockery of the kind woman’s blessing, the 
helpless little one bent back, as if pierced with an arrow, 
raised its tiny hands in a wail of agony, and then sank beneath 
a whirlpool of convulsions. The scene was touching enough 
to pierce the stoutest heart. 

The dreadful event fiew through the neighborhood like wild- 
fire. The mansion was flooded with sorrowful neighbors, 
speechless with consternation. When the first wave of won- 
der was over, speculation grew rife, as to the possible cause 
of the astounding aberration. The superstitious believed it a 
visitation of divine wrath, for some secret sin committed by 
the parents. The weak, minded attributed it to the diabolical 
agency of an old woman, long reputed a witch, who was now 
remembered to have heard breathe threatenings against the 
family. But the more sensible ruled within them the curious 
eye of their fancy, seeking not to penetrate the inscrutable 
secrets of Nature ; and gave themselves to the nobler work of 
the good Samaritan, binding up the wounds of the stricken 
parents, and pouring into their lacerated spirits the oil of sym- 
pathy. 

These children continued to live and grow. Indeed, they 
were remarkably fair to look upon. They retained the im- 
3 * 


30 


THE FISHER BOY. 


press of a deep spii-itual grace, while a more than mortal 
beauty shone from their delirious eye and hectic face. Yet, 
this brightened radiance was but the glowing monition of a 
lingering sunset. To the agonized sight of despair, it looked 
as if some fiend were touching with celestial hues the mirror- 
ing infant soul, only to wring with harder grip the parental 
heart, by magnifying the greatness of its loss. 

But although reason was dethroned, some of the faculties 
flashed up into a more vivid flame, by the shifting volcano * 
within. If the orb of light had withdrawn from the centre, it 
was pouring its effulgence with redoubled force upon the 
verge of the soul. Speech lay fettered in dumb incoherency, 
and kingly reason had -sunk into a midnight of gloom, but 
Argus memory, and lynx-eyed perception, had acquired a 
Sampson-like strength. 

The boy in growing up was kept with maternal vigilance 
within the bounds of care, but not so the girl ; her deranged 
mind shot forth as erratic as a crazed comet athwart a harmo- 
nious sky. Her spirit was as restless as the chafed ocean. 
Defeating every means of restraint or confinement, she was 
ever escaping from home, and roaming abroad at-will. These 
fantastic flights took her through dismal swamps, across ford- 
less streams, and into people’s houses at midnight ; by what 
means it was mysterious to everybody. Contemplating her in 
this phase, one might have fancied her some haunting spectre 
left to wander up and down the earth. 

Feats were at times done by her that looked really super- 
human. Such may be mentioned as severing the links of her 
chain without apparent means; passing through fastened 
doors and barred windows, or running swiftly along the verge 
of the house-top. It would seem that the furies had gotten 
possession of the girl, and were hurrying her to and fro, just 
in contempt of the laws of corporeal and spiritual life. 


A mother’s love. 


31 


Among other idiosyncrasies was a fugitive passion for some 
article for plaything. The coveted thing possessed, and toyed 
with a brief season, was thrown aside as a cast-off garment, 
for a new one. This seemed but an intenser form ot that un- 
satisfying nature common to the universal heart. Her cun- 
ning and invention were most marvellous. Creating the 
means of escape, in some inadvertent moment, she would dis- 
appear like the vanishing of a ghost. Pursuing her were like 
chasing the shadow of a dream. Flying to the house of the 
coveted object, she would appropriate it, and return with the 
celerity of Ariel. All vigilance was baffled. Locks and 
bolts were merely so many gossamer threads. To attempt 
wresting the stolen article from her, was struggling with Her- 
cules. In an encounter, her strength multiplied like that of a 
mad-man. Neither could one of her toys be successfully hid- 
den from her. She would proceed straight to the hiding-place 
with unerring instinct. 

As if to symbolize the work of ruination within, her hand 
seemed bent upon destruction, as naturally as the sparks fly 
upwards. Nothing ever so rare or costly could escape her 
sharp glance. Furniture, plate, food, toys and adornments, 
would disappear like the crumbling of frost-work. Not 
even her own clothing yvas exempt from the general devasta- 
tion. 

The maintenance of these children wasted of itself the in- 
come of a fortune. Still, Mrs. Carl with genuine motherly 
instinct, resisted all persuasion to have them placed in an 
asylum for the insane. Their very forlornness of soul stirred 
to its depths her tenderness of spirit, and made her shrink 
with anguish at the thought of entrusting them to others. 
Her devotion intensified from the helplessness of its object. 
Her affection grew into a species of delirium, which, while 
it honored human nature, showed the depth of love in a 


32 


THE FISHER BOY. 


mother’s heart, and the abnegation of which a loyal spirit is 
capable. 

After a considerable lapse of time in the flowering period 
of conjugal life, another child was born to Mrs. Carl. Like 
the other, it was a girl ; a lily blond, with sunny ringlets, 
soft blue eyes, and sweet ingenuous face. Its unfolding life 
was watched over, with a solicitude trembling between fear 
and hope. But the fated period had passed, and each day 
was bringing fresh assurance to the mother’s heart. If the 
others had been shorn of the sunlight of intelligence, this fair 
girl supplied a compensation. For she seemed transparent 
with the sheen of intellectuality. The deep shadows of her 
home could not drive the sunbeams of nature from her heart, 
and she bloomed into maidenhood a joyous sylph-like being, 
seeming just to touch this earth, so blithely did she trip over 
its dewy verdure. She shed a bright halo in the gloomy path- 
way of Mrs. Carl. But a young English physician whom 
some throw of chance, had brought to the neighborhood, saw 
the spirited being, became fascinated with her loveliness, and 
surrendered his heart to her spell. How hard to the mother, 
the thought of parting with the sweet solace of her poignant 
hours, of entrusting to a stranger the idol of her heart. Was 
she to gain a son, or lose a daughter ? Had he come to fulfil 
the sweet law of nature to the wedded girl, to give fulness to 
her existence, to complete her womanhood, or would he, in- 
stead, scatter mildew upon her fresh soul, poison the well- 
springs of her joy, sap the foundation of her nature, and lay 
the cold hand of blight upon her life ! 

They were betrothed ; but a few weeks before the bond of 
union was to be sealed, she fell a victim to consumption, that 
scourge of New England. 

The fourth child was a girl, as well, a fine featured brunette, 
with raven hair, and large, lustrous eyes, bespeaking tender- 


EARLY LIFE OF MRS. CARL. 


33 


ness of soul. A native maidenly grace, joined to a modest 
charm of manner, made her a favorite throughout the neigh- 
borhood. Despite the dread penury of her home, the fair 
girl’s favor was sopght far and near. Especially, did many a 
rising young seaman press for her hand. The sailor above 
all others, listens to the voice of his heart, in choosing his 
mate. The coveted maiden was at length born off, by a gay 
young captain, as a happy prize from amid fragrant isles. But 
in six rosy months from the nuptials, she too was numbered 
with the blighted hopes of the bereaved mother. 

Added to the other griefs of- the widow, was the loss, as 
previously mentioned, of her husband by drowning. Bereave- 
ments there are, that do not disrobe existence quite of its ves- 
ture of joy, but the removal by death of a bosom companion — 
the irreparable sundering of two hearts, grown into a new life, 
in which every object reflects the bright image of this new 
birth — brings a desolation of woe, that must be felt to be 
understood. 

The marriage of Mrs. Carl was at that early youth, when 
the virginal sentiments twine with greenest vigor ; when the 
soul throws most fondly the gorgeous dream*s of fancy, over 
the being of its choice ; when the heart clasps with holiest 
persistence, the sweet idol of its own creation. 

A woof of propitious circumstances eradled the dawning of 
the new life of the happy couple. Mrs. Carl was an idol- 
daughter, and a beauty. She grew up in those times of severe 
simplicity, when native worth could .bloom into a lovely flow- 
er, free of the tarnishing breath of a perverted society. 

Mr. Carl seemed likewise a favored child of Nature. His 
step-father perceiving the boy’s promise, advanced him quickly 
to the command of one of his vessels. He did even more. 
When the young man had proved worthy of his trust, had 
sealed with success the high judgment formed of him, he did 


/54 


THE FISHER BOY. 


not pocket all the earnings, and use Capt. -Carl merely as an 
instrument to swell his own fortune. No, Mr. Damon was 
animated by nobler principles of life. With the generosity of 
greatness, he tendered the young man a principal share of the 
fine vessel he sailed. 

Thus, at the early age of nineteen, the young captain could 
pace the deck of his own vessel, flushed with the emotions of 
lofty achievement ; for this was when commandership had a 
meaning. It imparted lustre in the eyes of the settlement. 
It dazzled the eyes of the maidensi Capt. Carl was reckon- 
ed, too, among the finest looking of young men, one had ever 
seen tread a quarter-deck. There was a mingling of the 
noble and tender in his bearing, well calculated to captivate 
the female heart. 

Thus equipped, the happy couple launched gayly upon the 
future. Golden suns were above, and sparkling waves danced 
beneath them. The very skies looked propitiously down. And 
the horizon of life broadened in azure tenderness upon their 
sight. Blit the morn does not reveal the meridian day. Sor- 
row came like a drenching cloud. Capt. Carl’s step-father 
suddenly died. 'By this the son lost his share in the vessel by 
some informality in the legal conveyance. Soon another ill- 
luck stripped him of his hard earned all. Bereavement bowed 
down his spirit, and his maniac children strained his every 
exertion for their support. He seemed now on the downward 
disc of the wheel of fortune. His barque was struggling upon 
the receding billow. Every enterprise touched failed, like 
the crumbling of frost-work. Some slight thread would break, 
often in the last moment, to ruin all. The prestiges of mis- 
fortune foreshadowed him like an evil omen. The sentiment 
of ill-luck beat in his own breast, and jaundiced the vision of 
others. At last, his very name became a by-word of ill- 
starred-fate, and men feared to associate with him in any 


ADVERSE FORTUNE. 


35 


enterprise, lest they, too, should catch the contagion of his evil 
genius. 

, There are two different spirits discernible in the struggle 
of life. One, when borne hard upon by the pressing train 
of ill-fortune, gradually yields, until its * vision, darkened 
by the misty cloud rising before the horizon of its faith, 
sinks below the wave of dejection, in utter impotence of will. 
The other, like a staunch ship, sets its snug sail a trim to 
the careering gale, and doggedly beats into port ; or, casting 
the anchor of Hope, it holds fast amid the roaring surges, un- 
til the brightening up of the pitchy skies. 

When ill-stared Fate like a haunting Spirit pursues us, it is 
undoubtedly heroic, to spurn incredulously his seductive ap- 
proaches ; to turn a deaf ear to his illusive whisperings ; to 
uncoil with main might the doublings of his gripping folds ; 
in fine, to rush upon the athletic foe, and cut with the 
sword of decision the gathering web of our ruin. But 
who is quite equal to this? Wlio can resist the sombre 
delusions of ill-luck. Who annihilate the train of misfor- 
tune that wraps around the ill-fated like the atmosphere they 
breathe ? 

Such potency was not at least vouchsafed to the husband 
of Mrs. Carl. When the clouds of misfortune had gathered 
thick over his path-way, he gradually sunk into their shadow 
forgotten. He whose name had been bright upon every lip, 
no longer provoked the buzz of the fickle crowd. The melt- 
ing waters behind the trackless ship close not more com- 
pletely, than did the rippling wave of society over his golden 
past. 

Thus to pass down the shady slope of life, is not the easiest 
of human lot. Yet Capt. Carl suffered in silence. No mur- 
mur was heard to escape his lips. His was a resignation that 
vaunteth not itself. It was a current too deep and tranquil 


36 


THE FISHER BOY. 


for that. Suffering could not shake the integrity of his soul. 
The serenity of upright intention beamed placidly upon his 
brow to the last. He could never learn the wily lesson of 
dishonesty. The insight of experience only repelled his na- 
ture from the guile of false seeming. Men called incapacity 
what was an inherent moral recitude that debarred every spe- 
cies of deception. Indeed, he seemed too good for earth ; and 
when he passed away, hearts dropped a smiling tear of grati- 
tude, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

We shall seek almost in vain for the grace of a sweet and 
noble character, amid the hill-peaks of successful life. As 
well should we expect a vesture clean after being drawn 
through the muddy pool of Dives. The dashing mountain 
cataract may figure to the passing eye, but we turn to the 
gushing rill, sequestered from view to taste the sweet waters 
fresh from the pure fount of Nature. 

These afflictions of Mrs. Carl were followed by a long sea- 
son of physical prostration. Overshadowing Dyspepsia came 
with his inexorable brood, to gnaw at the vitals of life ! 

And, now, there was left but a single flower in her family- 
garden. Who could blame the widow for worshipping this 
remaining solace, with the fullest passion of soul. With a 
nature enriched by deep experience, its full tenderness was 
concentrated upon this sole object of her affections. Well 
might the thought of parting with him cut like severing soul 
and body. Yet the wringing sacrifice was made. A flexible 
soul, she rose to an elevation with fortune. She triumphed 
over the tenderness of nature, but only with a pang deep and 
lasting. 

How measureless the capability of the human soul ! Trials 
we thought insupportable, gradually yield before the master- 
ing energies of a true nature. 

A giant grief may be likened to a mountain billow. It 


CHEERING PROSPECTS. 


37 


comes rolling on, threatening to submerge our trembling 
barque, but the noble vessel, like a genuine spirit, mounts by 
degrees the swollen sea, until poised majestically upon its 
breezy ridge, it glows a-strong in the gale and sunlight of 
heaven. 


CHAPTER IV. 

“ A thousand thoughts of all things dear, ' 

Like visions o’er me sweep, 

I leave ray sunny childhood here — 

Oh, therefore let me weep.” 

Mrs. Hemans. 

To a kindly nature, struggles there are, in which victory 
brings no feeling of exultation. When triumph carries a gall 
of bitterness to those we love, the generous heart melts in 
sympathy, and in an excess of affection, we regret even the 
fortune we have achieved. 

Thus was it with Walter. When he contemplated the tem- 
pest-shattered frame of his mother, as the outward symbol of 
a more disastrous wreck within, his filial nature was lively 
touched. When he reflected that the point gained toward his 
darling hope, had added fresh grief to the endeared author of 
his days, he was deeply moved. But as the memory of her 
consecrated life of affection to his every need and wish came 
rushing in distinct, swelling billows to his mind, a pulsation of 
tender emotion swept through his soul, and paralyzed every 
energy of his will. 

Then there was the saddened thought of parting with many 
a youthful companion ; of leaving, perhaps forever, the sunny 
haunts of youth, endeared spots that had become closely en- 
twined around his plastic affections. To these might be added 
that sorrowful depression ’ of spirit, which precedes the first 
step in the path of a new career. 

( 38 ) 


LONGING FOR THE SEA. 


39 


Under the thronging weight of these emotions, he more 
than half repented the resolution of leaving home for the sea. 
But it is not thus easy to arrest the momentum of a purpose, 
that has gained possession of our being. Then, the keenest 
regrets are but so many eddies in the stream of our destiny. 
The main current of our fate moves us on with irresistible 
sway and celerity. 

In the ardor of youthful aspiration, Walter was eager to 
launch off at once, on board a square rigger. This would 
gratify his longing for seeing foreign lands, a desire that 
glowed in his bosom with intense fervor. But to this step 
Mrs. Carl interposed a heart-appealing denial. As a compro- 
mise, the humble lot of a fishing-cruise was agreed upon. To 
this end, propitious chance revealed a gladsome opening. An 
uncle of Walter, the only surviving brother of his lamented 
father, happened just then to be fitting out a wee craft for a 
summer’s stroll a-fishing. This to Mrs. Carl seemed provi- 
dential ; and her overjoyed heart, embraced the good fortune 
with lively gratitude. 

Capt. Carl, Walter’s uncle, was a mild man, of a pious 
mood, verging to the superstitious. He was one of those 
honey-moon characters which no amount of seething in the 
world’s caldron can acidify. Even up to the sober age of 
manhood, he retained the petty, bauble disposition of child- 
hood. His mental vision seemed cast with the iris of the sum- 
mer rainbow. The crucible of life had in his case failed to * 
precipitate the sweet foibles of youth ; and had at length cast 
him out but a child of older growth, a little sered by the hand 
of Time. 

But he possessed many qualities that looked toward the 
noble ; and in his graver moments, there beamed forth in his 
bearing a certain classic dignity, that was really captivating. 
You would have said, that Dame Nature cut him out for one 


40 


THE FISHER BOY. 


of her noblest pieces of workmanship, but that he had been 
spoiled in the making up. 

He was, however, a good seamen and safe navigator ; and 
in those times of our growing commerce, his services were 
ever in ready demand. Still, his success was thwarted by a 
single eccentric trait, which hung upon his path, like an incu- 
bus. This was unsteadiness to a single line of business. But 
it did not spring from a bold, enterprising spirit, that chafes in 
the dusty harness of life, but from a restless imitative bent of 
mind, that like the flitting butterfly, is ever on the wing, for a 
novel object. Or it might have arisen from a perverted fancy 
that is blind to the immediate, and only sees distant objects 
in the bright colors of a hallucinating mirage. 

Well, after being tossed about through youth upon the very 
wave of accident, he at last cast anchor in a berth, which af- 
forded hope for a season of quiet stability. This was in the 
command he had gained of a fine brig plying between a south- 
ern port of our Union, and a famed city of the Old World. 
The time of which we speak, was, it should be remembered, 
in the infancy of our marine, when command brought distinc- 
tion, and crossing the Atlantic was an achievement to be 
prided upon, for a life time. 

This fine position of Capt. Carl joined to a gracious exte- 
rior filled his neighborhood at home with his popularity. He 
might now, it would seem, have yielded to the inflowing tide 
•of prosperity, and been content -to be borne along upon its 
glassy bosom. But no ; the flickering star of his genius would 
not have it thus. He must needs follow the bent of his habit, 
and change. Well, we will not quarrel with Nature, if a little 
capricious in her manifestations, she does here and there vary 
the phases of human character. The diadem upon the brow 
of night, would be robbed of half its peerless beauty, did every 
star-gem beam with uniform splendor. 


A SECOND MARKIAGE. 


41 


After one of his voyages, on a visit home to his children, 
Capt. Carl fell into the amiable fortune of a second marriage. 
To a mariner just landed from sea, every woman appears an 
angel ; and although brave to the last amidst the perils of the 
ocean, yet the sailor yields readily to the fascinating spell of 
beauty. 

With a resolution more honorable to the heart than com- 
mendable to prudence, Capt. Carl gave up at once his advan- 
tageous position, with the view of attempting something that 
might employ him nearer the bosom of his family. Springing 
his imitative faculties, he struck out a miniature-model of a 
fine coaster. When built, the vessel appeared a taunt, airy 
looking craft, a httle unique to be sure, yet striking and hand- 
some. But on trial, she proved so crank under sail, and so 
deficient withal in stowage, as to be neither safe as a sea-boat 
nor profitable as a carrier. The flaunting schooner was no in- 
apt emblem of many a pretentious mortal who, though pre- 
possessing to the eye, yet proves upon trial entirely inade- 
quate to bear safely over the ocean of Time, the invaluable 
freight of Life ! 

Having sunk in this exotic enterprise the fruits of years 
hard beating the seas, he fell back upon the lowly calling of 
fishing. But this just then was not a reluctant step. In its 
loss of dignity or pecuniary emolument, he was soothed by the 
honorable anticipations of revelling more freely in the sweets 
of conjugal felicity. How happy that our unluckiest fate is 
accompanied by some gleam of brightness to reconcile us to 
the ill-fortune. It may be but a speck of light amid the sur- 
rounding gloom, but its nearness shuts off the greater dark- 
ness, as a ray of sunshine flung across our path-way distracts 
the attention firom the portentious gloom of the approaching 
cloud. 

If, then, Walter must go to sea, what more favorable than 

4 * 


42 


THE FISHER BOY. 


a berth with his uncle. It is true that so humble a calling 
hardly fulfilled the ambitious aspirations of Mrs. Carl, but in 
the deep solicitude of her spirit, worldly preferment was for- 
gotten. 

Soon, alas, too soon, for the widow’s aching heart, all was 
arranged. But a few days were now to elapse, before the 
sailing of the vessel, and this brief interval seemed shortened 
by the press of matters clamoring for attention previously to 
getting off. Yet Walter could not refrain stealing away more 
than once in the time, to gaze again and yet again upon the 
many endeared spots about his home. These looked like the 
serene face of friends that had sported with him along the rosy 
morn of life ; and now that he must leave them, he felt all the 
more keenly how closely they had become entwined around 
the halcyon associations of his childhood. 

There was, for instance, the Old Red School House, wfith 
its low gable roof, greatly revered as the rough portal to the 
fane of learning ; and deeply enshrined in the soul of Walter, 
by the varied emotions of school-life. The very shrine of in- 
tellectual greatness, the venerable hall of science, seemed in 
no way vain of display. For instead of standing boastfully 
upon the “ corners of four roads,” it was modestly embosomed 
some* half a mile away from any dwelling, amid a broad young 
woodland, through which straggled here and there a path, 
worn by the ceaseless feet of generations of youth. 

Then, near the time-honored school-house, smiled the wel- 
come White Spot, an oval shaped ground, singularly cut out 
amid the sapplings, as anomolous as a verdant oasis in a burn- 
ing desert. This hemmed in tiny play-ground, had become 
worn to white sand, packed smooth by the daily shuffling and 
tramping of feet in the seductive and breathless games at ball 
during the school-recesses ; but with a conscience less effaced 
by repeated rubbings this same “White Spot” would have 


THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 


43 


felt much to atone for, in the castigations it brought the invol- 
untary truants, by luring them just one minute Jonger after 
the hated, but ominous double rap of the teacher upon the 
vibrating window sash. 

A little further down, at the foot of the reeling avenue 
stretched the two long “ Hollows,” which like open natures, 
ever of a noon-time, drew the older boys to inspiriting con- 
tests at foot-ball. 

Hard by these, interposed the interminable swamp over 
which hung a mist of awe as profound as the unknown in the 
soul of man. Silence reigned there supreme, broken only at 
long intervals, by the wailing scream of some beseeching bird, 
or the curdling hiss of a cruel reptile. Useless too seemed 
this stagnation of earth, except for the dire phantoms it was 
wont to give forth in the dusk of a summer evening ; or the 
witches it furnished of a gloomy day, to the superstitious part 
of the schooL 

But let us peep into the Old Knowledge Box, as the quaint 
temple of learning was facetiously called, by a waggish lad 
whose fertile fancy was more apt at instituting comparisons, 
than in discovering the cue to the solution of sums in Dabol. 

Well, on creaking open the weather-beaten door, the eye 
runs wondrously through the high narrow entry, half piled 
with pine wood, and then falls with complacency upon the 
Old Oaken Bucket, with its thick wooden lip, and ponderous 
iron bail. 

This dingy “ watering pot,” firmly clasped with iron bands, 
and strongly riveted, was made in the days, when good old 
Honesty had not discovered the knack of contriving his work 
fair to the eye, and, at the same time, introducing into it the 
elements of speedy dissolution. 

From time beyond memory the grateful vessel had made 
its daily pilgrimage to the distant brook, as sure as the 


44 


THE FISHER BOY. 


promptings of insatiable nature. Especially of a sultry sum- 
mer afternoon, might it be seen slowly swinging and surging 
its return, upon a puny pole, between two of the happiest of 
the sons of Dame Nature, quite oblivious to the exactions of 
father Time, or the dread of sore punishment in store for 
tardy feet. 

-Opening the “ inside door,” reveals the double row of long 
heavy benches of the school-room, rising with the sloped floor, 
and cut and scarred as deeply as Immortality herself could 
desire. In the aisle before us extending quite across the build- 
ing stands the capacious stove, which, like a generous nature, 
is rough but warm-hearted, and, if at times partial in dif- 
fusing its favors, yet always whole-souled in its greetings. 

At the left, upon the low, wide platform, rises from its four 
naked legs, the ever to be remembered Teacher’s Desk. De- 
spite the modest look and conspicuous position of this van- 
guard of pedagogical power, so completely impressed is it with 
the responsibility of place, as to be able to hold up its dignity, 
even in face of the whole school. Yankee-like it has served 
several ends, among them, the very convenient one of bowing 
the stubborn necks of sinning urchins, or of stifling their des- 
perate cries beneath its irrevocable lid. 

Within these humble walls, wdth knees upon the scarred 
form before him, Walter had sat many a live-long day, some- 
times commendably enough with eyes intent upon book, but 
oftener, very likely, watching the sharp eye of the teacher, or 
gazing wistfully at the tiny black hands of the old silver time- 
piece suspended above. Or more likely still, ever and anon 
stealing a winsome glance, at some favorite upon the girl’s 
side of the room. At one time, it may have been -the pale, 
sympathetic face of Nancy ; at another, the tender, blue eyes 
of Mary, with which rosy fingered Fancy was painting a sweet 
image of girlhood upon the sanctuary of his soul. 


ANGLING. 


45 


But the soft picture was purely within. It had yet no 
counterpart. It was merely a lovely ideal throwing its dawn- 
ing flush over the youthful sentiments. Then this budding 
affection was moreover within the inner court of the heart. It 
was too sacred to be profaned by mortal touch. No intimacy ; 
could share it ; not even the fair beings whose unconscious^ 
beauty, was the glowing pencil, were aware of the work they 
were doing. The bright image was of course graced with the 
nameless charms of perfection. How happy that the imagin- 
ation can invest its object with its own bright hues. 

But the Old School-House with its memory-embalmed sur- 
roundings, were not the only spots to cast a spell around the 
lingering feet of Walter. There gleamed away on the other 
side of the mansion, the ever flowing mill-pond, thick with 
merry associations. By its stilly edges, Walter with rod in 
hand, had whiled away many a happy hour, in trying to con- 
jure up from its mysterious depths some of the varied watery 
tribe there ensconsed ; now jerking from below some coquette 
of a perch ; again tugging away at an unwilling eel ; or, per- 
chance, ousting from his muddy bed some grim surly snapping 
turtle. 

Or in the silvery moonlight of a winter evening, when the 
glassy face of the pond mirrored the exuberance of youthful 
glee, how fascinating had been the skating exercise, the jovial 
dance around the mirthful Are, kept up by poachings from the 
neighboring fences, the fleet coasting down the embankment, 
across the crystal ice, and neck or naught into the peevish 
underbrush on the opposite side. 

Far up the stream, emerged all silent from the sluggish 
waters, the fast anchored islet, frequented but in one season 
of the year, and then only for that mischievous and cruel, but 
most fascinating of sports — namely, bird’s nesting. 

Yet these stagnant waters surrounding the woody islet sent 


4G 


THE fishp:ti BOr. 


up profusely from their muddy excrescenee — like a fair child 
from ill-featured parents — the pure lily, so nice as a token 
of atfection for sister. Then, there were the cool bull-rushes 
for the fantastic cap, and the tenacious flags, so opportune for 
mending grandmother’s old chairs. 

At the lower end of the pond where the stream makes a 
slight nodding toward the ocean, was the well used mill-dam 
with its bridge of unmatched planks, jutting out unevenly, like 
ill-assorted bed-fellows. On the upper end of one of these, 
Walter, sprawled upon his face, had lain time and again, gaz- 
ing with dreamy inspiration upon the opaque waters below, 
which, like the ceaseless stream of life, would glide adown, to 
be seen no more. Once, losing his equipoise, he tumbled 
headlong into the hurrying current. He had not acquired the 
art of swimming, but from sheer instinct he floundered safely 
to the bank. 

Or, standing upon the lower end of the bridge, enrapt with 
the view of the livid sheet of water, now ejected through the 
narrow crevice of the flood-gate, now pouring in majesty over 
the flume, while the big, mossy, slimy water-wheel, would turn 
over and over like the unvaried round of day. 

Of a Monday summer forenoon, he would stop to listen to 
the garrulous chat of the merry washers, under the wide 
branching shade of the gigantic solitary oak, dipping their 
crystal waters from the unfailing spring, that oozed from the 
surrounding marsh. 

But what interested him most deeply, because instinct with 
life and sympathy, was watching the newly arrived herring. 
These harbingers of awakening spring would scurry in the 
boiling brook below, or with a skill surpassing reason, leap the 
rough water-fall ; or, alas, more likely seized in their career 
by the wily net, would lie flapping and gasping upon the 
sandy flat, no inapt emblem of some ambitious mortal, whose 


AN ENCOUNTER. 


47 


vaulting strides up the ladder of Fame are cut o£F by the in- 
sidious hand of Death. 

These were but a few of the haunts about his home, to 
which his soul had grown with the green vigor of spring-time. 
Parting from them was like cleaving the heart from its youth- 
ful loves. 

So long had Walter lingered around the Old Mill, that tho 
sun had sunk below the verdant pine-tops. Although hidden 
from view, he was still flinging profusely his crimson rays 
upon the gossamer clouds in the sky. Wending slowly toward 
home, the boy had but just emerged from the meagre woodland 
that skirted the pond, when his eye fell upon a female flgure 
in the distance. She was in the broad field, on the other side 
of the rivulet, pursuing her way in a direction toward the 
brook. Walter, it must be confessed, inherited that amiable 
sentiment for woman common to his sex. His pathetic mood 
of mind, moreover, in view of leaving home, gave just then a 
peculiar hveliness to his feelings. But both circumstances 
could hardly have awakened unusual attention to so ordinary 
an incident as encountering a female upon a public road, but 
that the unknown betrayed a singular ungainliness of mien 
that grew more striking as she approached. 

Her appearance was tall, but not shapely. Upon a narrow 
woollen skirt, and a little short withal — fell one of those tri- 
colored blankets of olden time, descending from the head, and 
pinned demurely under the chin. Her scanty garb, time worn 
and faded, betokened extreme penury to be her lot. 

When first seen by Walter, she was making her way along 
with a fleet step, giving every now. and then a wild toss of the 
head, and fetching as often a strange supple hitch, which set 
off drolly her ambulating gait. It was this latter particular, 
that struck Walter oddly. Yet as she neared the boy, her 
carriage gained in gracefulness, and he could not help noticing 


48 


THE FISHER BOY. 


that she was evidently timing her speed to meet him upon the 
bridge. They did pass each other there, just as if it had been 
pre-arranged. But sweeping by hurridly, the girl darted upon 
Walter a shy glance, yet so full of searching earnestness, as 
quite to startle the boy with wonder. Near, her countenance 
betokened more youthfulness, than her figure at a distance 
would indicate. It might, moreover, under congenial circum- 
stances, have been prepossessing ; but now there was engraved 
thereupon so haggard and unreal a look, giving an expression 
so wandering and frantic like, as to arouse the curiosity of 
Walter to the highest pitch. Indeed, so lively was this feel- 
ing, that in proceeding homeward, he could not help turning 
round again, and yet again, to get one more sight of the 
strange mortal whom he had just met. But by a singular 
coincidence, as if mutually moved to it, by some presiding 
Divinity, they found themselves gazing at each other, always, 
just at the same moment. At length, fairly abashed, at be- 
traying so much boldness, he hastened on to the mansion, 
where, concealed behind a pillar of the portico, he watched 
unperceived her receding form, until it faded from view. 

Night was now fast lowering the gray folds of her majestic 
curtain, benignantly reminding all of the sweet season for 
repose. With pensive step, Walter opened the welcome door 
of his home, ruminating upon the mysterious incident that 
had seized him beyond his power to throw off. In his simple 
life, it bore the tinge of romance. The face he felt sure of 
never before having seen. This in a part of the country, so 
retired, that the appearance of a stranger never failed of creat- 
ing a stir, was of itself a novelty. Then there was that deep, 
suffering look, the mystery of which he could not divine, and 
contrasting withal so strangely with her volatile movements. 
But the soft spring which more than any other, kept her image 
uppermost in his mind, was the marked interest she betrayed 


NEW SENSATIONS. 


49 


for "Walter, despite the evident pains she took to conceal it. 
Wlio can resist the charm of being preferred ! And if the 
preference be shown by a female, at that guileless period of 
youth, before the heart has known deception, how quickening 
the delight ! The virgin emotions awakened, are among the 
delicious* drops in the cup of terrestrial happiness. 

5 


CHAPTER V. 


“ Farewell ; God knows when we shall meet again ; 

I have a faint cold fear thrills through iny veins 
That almost freezes up the heat of life.” 

•Shakspbare. 

The day was a bustling one at the mansion. The morrow 
being the one set for the sailing of the fishing-smack, the en- 
tire household were early astir for lending all needful aid in 
preparation for the departure. Then there were numerous 
calls from relatives and friends, to bid good bye, with hearty 
wishes for good luck and a safe return. 

Walter had always been a favorite in the neighborhood. 
Yet now it became more fully apparent how deeply his gentle 
nature had won upon everybody. For young and old thronged 
the mansion to press his hand, and drop a tear of regret at the 
loss of one whose absence would leave a void in the settle- 
ment. 

Such is the power of unaffected goodness. It steals upon 
the heart with the soft tread of rosy morn, but its sway is the 
inflooding of imperial day. True, it was an inconsequential 
boy, a poor widow’s son who was the object of this artless ova- 
tion, yet who shall not say, that their simple tokens of homage, 
were not more expressive than the huzzas that crowd the. 
steps of an emperor. Indeed, it is these sweet rills of affec- 
tion, fresh from the fount of Nature, trickling here and there 
upon the rugged hfe bosom of the earth, that impart perennial 
vigor to humanity. Upon their purity angels may well smile 
with grateful emotion. Their collective waters happily im- 
150 ) 


PAINFUL ArPREHENSIONS. 


51 


pregnatc with vivifying power, the briny ocean of life, whose 
treacherous waves so boldly court the eye. 

These neighborly sympathies continued up to a late hour in 
the evening ; when with that thoughtful solicitude which is 
the sweet offspring of maternal love, Mrs. Carl kindly urged 
her son to retire. 

How sadly tender was breathed now their mutual “ good 
night,” shooting vividly as it did through their heart, the near 
reality of separation. Then, perhaps, it was their last good 
night upon earth. Inexorable Time and the treacherous wave, 
that were to intervene, darkly increased such an apprehension. 
Emotions of tender regret tinged the deepening cloud hover- 
ing over the horizon of their faith. Ah, how painful the 
thought of separating from those we truly love. 

Walter might go, and soothe his agitated spirit in the obli- 
vion of sleep, but for Mrs. Carl there remained a duty which 
must not be postponed till the morrow, lest procrastination 
prove the thief of time. Her unwilling heart would fain omit 
the painful task, but that .might not be. Indeed, it need not 
be feared, for the suffering woman had become rooted in that 
integrity of habit, which can march boldly up to an unpalata- 
ble duty, if not always without trepidation, yet ever without 
wavering. 

This sad duty was to pack Walter’s sea-chest for the fish- 
ing-trip. Tlie chest had been given to the widow, by a retired 
fisherman. The latter had received it from a veteran salt. 
This hoary piece of sea-furniture, was a relic of by -gone days 
and looked to have seen much hard service. Its shape was 
not unlike the kettle-bottomed ships of former times, that is, 
with tumbling sides, or top narrower than the bottom. It had 
doubtless received a brushing of green paint every voyage ; 
and this, with the accumulating filth of the forecastle, and the 
gangrenous effect of the bilge-water, had left a deep, dark 


52 


THE FISHER BOY. 


coat, of no named color, but retaining an odor which impressed 
the sense with the very spirit of a sea-going life. 

For handle, on either end, was a neatly marled rope-bccket 
rove through a firm cleet. The insterstices of the beckets had 
been filled with tar, amalgamated with oily sweat from fre- 
quent handling, which imparted to it an unnatural rigidity. 
Indeed, the external appearance of the old chest was very 
Neptune-like, and bespoke a career of rare vicissitude. 

On raising the lid a musty void met the eye, except a till 
for notions in the upper part of one end. The interior had 
received no painting, unless a slight brushing from the hand 
of Time might be called such. 

As the eye of Mrs. Carl fell upon the desolate space, she 
was reminded of nothing so much as a coffin in which was to 
be buried her fondest hopes. So intense were her emotions, 
that it seemed to her distracted sense, the body of her son, 
instead of his clothing, that she was going to place therein. 

With an aching heart, the widow began to pack. — Dear 
reader, were you ever called to a similar office, of preparing 
with your own hands for the departure, — alas, perhaps forever, 
of a tenderly loved one, — to yield up your dearest affections 
upon the Altar of Duty ? Then may you know the anofuish 
of Mrs. Carl. 

As article after article bedewed with a tear, was carefully 
folded in, the swelling bosom of the widow heaved with emotions 
which it seemed impossible for her to control. There were 
the warm flannels, the woollen drawers, the nippers, the com- 
fortable mittens, which latterly she had set up night after 
night to finish, until her very temples throbbed with pain. 
Then her hand fell upon the fantastic forget-me-not, a gift 
from sweet cousin, all rosy with the dew of affection. Sev- 
eral articles of medicine were not forgotten ; such as castor 
oil, salts and senna, a variety of mint-drops, and a bundle of 


READY FOR SEA. 


53 


dried herbs, from thoughtful grandmother. Then came the 
box of fishing-paraphernalia which it would take pages to de- 
scribe. And lastly, she carefully laid in a bible, as if this 
could prove an antidote to her griefs. 

The chest closed and locked, Mrs. Carl stole into the nar- 
row bedroom of her son. He was reposing as calmly, as if 
his future were a placid sea. 

How beautiful was he to the adoring mother ! A tranquil 
glow heightened the charm of his fine countenance. Angelic 
smiles seemed playing upon his sweet features, while upon his 
fair brow beamed the emblems of truth and purity. How 
could she give him up ! How resign him to a world filled 
with snares for the unwary ! Ah, the thought that her off- 
spring may return to her no more, — may fall a victim to the 
disease of clime, — may find a grave in the "ocean’s depths; 
it is not this that brings the peculiarly fearful sorrow to a 
mother at parting with a son, for a life upon the sea. It is 
that her dear boy can never return to her the same pure 
being that he was ; and that he may come back a foetid wreck 
from the luring but hideous gales of sin. 

In the agony of her spirit, the suffering woman knelt by the 
bedside of her son, and there transfixed by deep emotion, 
breathed out her faith in earnest supplication. This simple 
exercise cdlmed and strengthened her mind. Imprinting a 
kiss upon his brow, she retired to her own humble cot. But 
not to sleep. The dread vision of separation pressed too 
heavily upon her soul for that. Her eyes were set aglare, 
while hearing grew painfully alive to the faintest echo. 
When the fevered sense from very exhaustion, sank into a 
lull, the lunatic brain was peopled with images, that came and 
went in boding train. 

At length, the red chasers of Night heralded the approach- 
ing dawn. The spirit ridden woman drew herself from the 

5 * 


54 


THE FISHER BOY. 


bed, and touched a match to the awaiting fuel. The unstinted 
breakfast, by the hand of affection, was soon ready. 

By this, the noise of a wagoner was heard, thundering up 
to the house. The front door opened and a man groping 
through the hall, and up the stair-way, entered unceremoni- 
ously. 

“ Good morrow, mistress Carl,” quoth the wagoner ; glad 
to see you looking so smart, this morning ; confess, I didn’t 
expect it ; must be hard to let Walter go, but such trials are 
a part of life, you know, and we’ve only to put the best face 
possible upon the matter.” 

Mrs. Carl made no answer, except that a tear gushed from 
her over brimmed eye, like a pearly dew-drop, trickling upon 
the leaflets of a shaken flower. She arranged a chair, and 
pressed the honest wagoner to be seated. 

“ Oh, no, thank ye, can’t stop just now. Skipper sent me 
after Walter’s things. The crew’ll all be along directly, and 
one’ll stop, and call the boy. — Guess they’re going to have a 
good time out. ’Tis almost calm now, only a slight air stir- 
ring at the North, just enough to fan them out of the Bay. 
In the afternoon, the wind’ll spring up at the So- West ; that 
is, if t’ works as it generally does, and this is just the thing for 
them, you know, when they get over the shoals. Then off 
they’ll wind afore it, like a skein of yarn. The ve'ssel’ll soon 
be back I’ll warrant ; colors flying : all salt wet ; as lively as 
a duck, after oiling. Faith, half wish I was going along my- 
self.” 

The widow heaved a deep sigh and was silent. She merely 
pointed out Walter’s sea-effects — the old chest, already de- 
scribed, a straw mattress, pillows ; two woollen blankets ; a 
quilt ; also, the weather gear, such as boots, barvel, oil suit, 
etc. While these were being taken down stairs, she slipped 
into the bedroom, and awakened Walter. 


THE PARTING. 


55 


The boy arose with that mysterious feeling of unreality, 
that settles upon one, at the fulfilment of a long expected 
event. While he was seated at the table, the widow made a 
pretext of going from one room to another, the better to con- 
ceal from her son, the emotions surging her breast. 

As to the boy, he felt little inclination to eat ; and scarcely 
had he swallowed a cup of tea, before the crew were seen 
approaching the house, by the Eastern Lane. 

Mrs. Carl would not trust her feelings in presence of others, 
and her judgment bid her make the parting scene brief. As 
her eye fell upon the crew coming, she exclaimed in a tremu- 
lous voice, 

“ Walter, my son, they are coming.*’ 

The boy sprang from the table, seized his hat, and stood 
motionless before his mother. He appeared waiting for some- 
thing ; what, he could not tell himself. In fact, his state of 
mind was quite different from what he had expected. He 
had looked forward to the moment of separation as one of in- 
tense tenderness ; but to his amazement there was not the ves- 
tige of an emotion swelling his heart ; not even the remem- 
brance of the sentiment so lively in anticipation. Indeed, he 
seemed struck with a paralysis of soul. 

But not so with Mrs. Carl. To her the moment of trial 
had come.’ The billows of emotion raged even with deeper 
power within her bosom. It seemed that her lashed spirits 
must sink beneath their accumulating force. But the widow 
possessed a soul of strength. The roots of self-Oontrol had 
struck deeper from the storms of misfortune. It was .now no 
time, she knew, for a scene. A display of feeling might un- 
settle now too late the purpose of her son. It could but tinge 
with deeper bitterness the sentiment of separation, when he 
should be away. 

Stepping forward, and taking his hand in hers, in a sup- 
pressed voice, she said, 


5G 


THE FISHER BOY. 


“ My dear son, you are now about to leave me ; remember 
always your mother ; ever do your duty ; be true to yourself, 
to your God ; and may Heaven bless you. 

Pressing her pale lips upon his brow, she accompanied him 
through the door, and returning, sank into a chair, giving vent 
to the anguish of hfer heart. 

But there was another farewell for her reluctant eyes ; and 
hastening to the window, she gazed upon his endeared form, 
until the forests’ shades cut him off from view. Her heart 
now fairly sunk within her. The bright morning settled 
down upon her vision with leaden gloom. Such a day in all 
her dark experience, she had never before seen. Would that 
she might never behold another like it. 

The parting thus dimly outlined, but faintly shadows the 
dark tempest that swept over the ocean bosom of the widow’s 
soul. To an observer, it might have seemed to be bearing all 
before it. But no, as the gale increased in force, so did new 
resources of strength leap up, from the well-spring of her ex- 
haustless nature. Indeed, the noble woman could be com- 
pared to some gallant barque, lost for the moment amid the 
rage and fury of the tempest, but seen at length again, di- 
shevelled it may be in rig, but still careering in proud majesty, 
upon the now conquered and subsiding waves. 

This yielding of emotion to reason was the supporting staff 
of her habitual self-control. Following the thrill of impulse, 
she could have thrown herself upon the neck of her son, and 
there sobbed out her spirit in despair. And many a moment 
of the day, when the sentiment of separation rolled back its 
bitter waves upon her, she almost repented not having yielded 
more fully to the exquisite luxury of her grief, as the last 
drop of happiness, remaining for her in life. 

As for Walter, it was some time before he could realize 
that he had actually set out from home. The parting-scene 


LEAVING HOME. 


57 


with his mother floated through his mind, like a passing 
dream. At length he began to feel the novel sensations that 
lie at the threshold of a new career. The raw morning air 
fell at first with shivering touch upon his delicate system ; but 
soon, the exhilaration of walking, and the comfortable warmth 
of his rough habiliments — a scotch-cap, neck-comforter, red- 
baize shirt, thick round-about, trowsers, and cow-hide boots, 
lent a keen glow to his animal spirits. 

As already implied, a cart had taken in advance the gene- 
ral effects of the crew, — such as the sea-chests, upholstery, 
and fishing-tackle ; still each fisherman circled with his arm 
a stuffed pillow-case, or bore in hand a bandanna handkerchief 
crowded to the corners. These were filled with articles of 
the nicer sort, such as it would not do, to entrust to the rough 
and tumble of the wagoner’s hand. 

The garb of the crew was unique. It could neither be 
called the rig of the sailor, nor the dress of the landsman. It 
had a decided mongrel aspect, being often like Joseph’s coat, 
of many colors. The patching though rough, was firmly done, 
and the whole seemed got up rather for comfort than grace. 

A certain brawny figure, with a coarse hardy look, were a 
fit setting in to the clumsy costume, floating around their 
limbs. Indeed, they might have been taken for a sort of am- 
phibious race of beings. 

Walter lit among them like a bird from another clime. As 
the boy, soft from his downy bed of life, made his appearance, 
each eyed him with a quizzing, incredulous glance, which was 
followed by a dry, monosyllabic greeting, that put the boy, it 
must be confessed, somewhat ill at ease. 

They spoke no more, till reaching the shore of the bay, but 
pursued their lagging way, with a gravity befitting beings 
bound to the realms of Pluto. 

Leaving home under any circumstances is little calculated 


58 


THK FISIIKR HOT. 


to awaken sociality ; especially with a class so taciturn as the 
fisherman. Then to be turned out of a soft bed of a raw 
March morning, with so dreary a prospect before, as a fish- 
ing cruise ! This is indeed dampening to the most buoyant 
spirit. 

In respect to the sailor, the case is different. With him the 
keen regret at parting from homo and loved ones, is accom- 
panied by feelings that tend to lessen the bitterness of separa- 
tion, — such as the kindlings within at the idjea of roaming 
abroad ; of looking leisurely around upon the world’s broad 
panorama ; of gazing perpetually upon scenes of novelty and 
interest. These floating before his mind’s eye, arouse within 
him the heroic, and lure his step onward. 

But not so with the fisherman. No charming hues are re- 
flected in the blue azure of his prospective landscape. On 
the contrary, all before him is a dreary waste of waters, — 
except so far, as the noble sentiment of duty, the sweet conso- 
lation of providing for loved ones ; and the anticij^ation of a 
happy return, impart buoyancy of spirit. 

Then, the genuine sailor, he who has become the adoptive 
heir of Neptune, is never long enough ashore, to become in 
any full sense wedded to it ; not long enough for the roots of 
his briny nature to sink deep into the clinging soil of domestic 
affection. The sea has become his element, the ocean-wave 
his home ; and one could now no more tame down his- roving 
spirit upon the land, than he could lure thither tlie wild pin- 
ion of the sea-gull. It matters not how tempestuous may 
have been his last voyage ; how many hair-breadth ’scapes he 
may have passed through; how often from the suffering 
depths of his being, he may have solemnly vowed, his foot 
again upon the dry land, the mountain wave should never 
wash it more. Still, a few days ashore, and the remembrance 
of these hardships and resolutions, disappear like the melting 


VIEW OF THE BAT. 


59 


track of tlie parting keel. Old associations like the memory 
of absent friends, come thronging in upon him, bearing back 
his restless spirit upon the ocean, whither he follows, if not 
with alacrity, yet with a regret softened by the power of a 
controlling sentiment. 

With the fisherman, the circumstances are quite different. 
Half of his existence at least is a shore-life. Whatever his 
luck in the summer, when winter comes, he is sure, like some 
hybernating animal, to retire into his snug-hole, there to enjoy 
his little summer-garnered store. This season of sloth begets 
a lassitude that unbends the very spring of animation, and 
makes it doubly hard to set off in the early spring for a bleak 
fishing cruise. It is like transplanting a tree whose fibres 
are just beginning to embrace the warm, genial earth. 

The crew stivered along across the gray old fields, yawning 
in the di'owsy morn, then through the secret wood, still hushed 
in the folds of lingering night; when winding around the 
dark-wombed swamp, they burst upon the smiling skirts of 
the shore. 

Presently, there glimmered up before them, the stretching 
chain of fanciful hillocks, scantily verdant with the sharp 
beech-grass. These formed the pleasing back-ground of the 
smooth, shelving beach. Through the little vistas formed by 
the sandy knolls, which the frolicking wind, in some fitful 
mood had tossed together, duskily gleamed the blue waters of 
the bay. 

Upon their verge they were now standing. It was almost 
calm. A zephyr-like air came creeping from the hills and 
■wood-land, just enough to ripple here and there the smooth 
surface of the waters. Save a modest undulation -visible in 
the tiny stir of struggling bits of sea-weed, floating near the 
shore, the broad bay lay before them, calm and reposing as a 


60 


THE FISHER BOY. 


sleeping maiden whose snowy bosom from amid her golden 
tresses, gently swells to the bliss of delicious dreams. 

Several small craft newly geared and painted, lay quietly 
anchored at different points some half a mile from the shore. 
They were sheltered within a sunken sand bar, that stretched 
all along the coast, and which, in a high wind, formed the 
only barrier against the spite of the winds that came galloping 
in from the Broad Atlantic. Which of these vessels was to 
be his, Walter could not even guess. But while revolving the 
matter, his eye fell upon a boat a little way off, turned over 
upon the sand. By the boat lay strewed a number of articles, 
and around it were huddled several men in a reclining pos- 
ture. As our party approached, the others arose and greeted 
them, but it was done rather by looks than words. 

At this moment, a fishing vessel at another point of the' 
coast was seen to weigh anchor and make sail. 

‘‘ Yonder she goes, the Silver Spring, as sure as I’m a liv- 
ing man,” ejaculated one of the crew — a true son of Proteus, 
one who plumed himself on being always high line, and to 
whom the bare mention of fish was enough to bring a thrill 
of animation. “ She’s got the start of us, after all,” he added, 
‘‘ I told our folks ’twould be so.” 

“ Well, let her have the start,” growled another voice. “ The 
26 th of March, is early enough to set out a codding at any 
rate. There’s no need of haste, I fancy. We’ll all catch 
enough cold pig, or I’ll be guzzled for a false prophet.”* 

“ But what have we here,” his eye falling upon Walter. 
“ A pretty mother’s baby, eh ? Ah, my boy, a hogshead of 
bitter ale’s in store for you. You’d better have nestled be- 
hind your mamma’s apron strings, this many a bright summer 
yet.” 

These barbed words in a voice of sonorous irony, could not 
but send a quaking to the spirit of the boy. Looking trem- 


PUSHING A-DRIFT. 


61 


blinglj up, lijs eyes met the broad gaze of the speaker, whose 
stalwart frame, overshadowing like a cloud, made him start 
back with awe. Still, so awakened was his curiosity, that he 
.could not help scrutinizing the stranger whenever he thought 
his glances unperceived. The longer he looked, the more he 
was struck with the figure and mien of the man. He was 
powerfully built, and his countenance indicated hardy vicissi- 
tude in the furnace of life. A broad chest and firmly knit 
limbs showed him to have seen hard weather in his day, but 
his still equable air and supple movements, proved that neither 
age nor suffering, had broken the spirit nor enfeebled the 
■ body. He was not what is termed handsome, yet there lay 
in his expressive face, a union of strength and tenderness, a 
kind of manly grace, that might have touched the sentiments 
'of a maiden, but over his boon companions, it exercised a 
charm all powerful in its influence. 

The deep tones of Old Marlboro, (for this was the name by 
which he took pride in being called) blended with a certain 
racy, domineering ease of manner, proved its usual fascina- 
tion over the boy, and from the first he could scarcely detach 
his eye from the graphic sailor. As Walter scanned liis face, 
he thought to read there after all something of human sympa- 
thy, notwithstanding the withering words just fallen from his 
lips. 

The skipper who all this time had been listening in a mus- 
ing mood, now gave a yawning glance at different points of 
the heavens; then throwing a wistful look after home; he 
yet gave briskly the order to go. The boat whirled upon its 
bottom; and sinewy hands gripping the gunwale, bore it 
quickly to the water’s edge ; the keel on the way but slightly 
grazing the sand. The movement was an animated one, spring- 
ing from that vigor, which shows itself in the first effort after 
long rest. Here, nicely poised in the water, the stern keel 

6 


62 


THE FISHER EOT. 


just toucliing the shore, their effects were thrown quickly in ; 
and the crew tumbling after, an oar set against the shore, 
pushed the boat adrift in a trice. 

Walter now felt the last tie of home sundered ; and a mor- 
tal disquietude sunk upon his soul like a hand of lead. The 
two stubbed oars, buried deep at each stroke to guard against 
fracture, were vigorously plied, by some half-dozen muscular 
arms, while the deeply laden boat moiled its way through the 
slow yielding water, as if reluctant to proceed upon its humble 
errand. 

So nervously cautious had Mrs. Carl always been in expos- 
ing her last hope, that Walter had never before sailed over 
the water, even though his home was upon the very verge of 
the ocean. Accordingly the sensation he’ now felt was a novel 
one. It might be likened to the dizzying thrill one has oh 
being poised too high in a swing, increased by the uncomfort- 
able conviction, that a slip would precipitate him to the bot- 
tom of the sea, instead of landing him upon terra-firma. 

By the heading of the boat it now became evident which 
one of the vessels ahead was theirs. She appeared the very 
smallest of the cozily anchored fleet, and could not have been 
more than thirty tons burthen. Her form was that of her 
class, full at the bow, narrowing at the mid-ships, and taper- 
ing off like a flsh at the stern, which turned up into the air to 
remind one of the Tritons of old. 

She was what is termed a pink-stern, a model borrowed 
very likely from the classic fount of mythology. Why its 
graceful, airy shape should ever have given place to the clum- 
sy square stern, is without reason, except from the intermed- 
dling of Fashion, which does not always consult Nature in its 
vagaries. 

The bristling little pink with false rails around, and kids 
and other like fishing-liamper upon deck, sat squat upon tlie 


NARROW ESCAPE. 


63 


water, looking as eager to start for the cruise, as a country- 
lad upon his first adventure to the big town. 

They were at length along-side. The surface of the sea 
from the shore had appeared perfectly smooth. But as they 
reached the offing, a long, gentle ground swell became percep- 
tible. With this undulation the vessel rolled, very slightly, 
it is true, but the effect was to toss the boat up and against 
the vessel, in a style bewildering enough to the unsophisti- 
cated sense of the Fisher Boy. 

Being in the bow of the boat, the place always assigned in 
a sea-going life to the youngsters, he was impatiently ordered 
by some half-dozen voices to jump on board. He was quite 
willing to heed the command ; and as soon as he could disen- 
tangle his feet from the pother of fishing tackle, boxes, etc., 
that encumbered him, he fetched a leap, with the view of 
scrambling up the side of the vessel, and tumbling over upon 
deck ; but in the flurry, his fingers lost their grip on the rail, 
and he would inevitably have fallen plump into the water, 
between the vessel and the boat, but for a vigorous arm that 
arrested his downward course, and sent him back headlong, 
over the rail, upon deck. 

Ere he had recovered the shock of this ill-starred incident, 
a hoarse, wiry voice broke out — “ There, you lubber, a hair- 
breadth more, and you would have gone sure to Davy Jones’s 
locker, a dainty morsel for some bloody heathen of a shark. 
Ship on your sea-legs, now, in the twinkling of an eye ; or 
ten to one you’ll be making some other dastardly slip-bend.” 

Glancing over the side of the vessel, his eyes met those of 
Old Marl. They where beaming with a fine gush and twin- 
kle of delight ; while the furrowed physiognomy of the old 
sailor bore a frank gratulation, at the heroic feat of thus 
saving the boy. 

Walter could not but feel a growing confidence in tliis 


64 


THE FISHER BOY. 


weather-beaten son of the sea, despite the rough handling he 
had received at the old fellow’s hands. The force of his last 
injunction to ship on his sea-legs, now began to press with 
peculiar significance ; for although the motion of the vessel 
was not great, the strange, drunken-like sensation it pro- 
duced upon the boy’s nerves, made him quite reel with dizzi- 
ness. 

The boat being cleared of her dunnage, was hoisted in upon 
deck, and turned over the hatch-way. While some began 
loosing the sails, the skipper gave the order to heave ahead. 
“ Heave ahead,” responded a voice. “ Heave ahead, and save 
the tide,” roared another. “ Down with the chings,” squealed 
out the skipper, to the cook. “ Cluck, cluck, rolled round the 
windlass ; up went the main and foresails. The anchor was 
now a peak. Two or three heavy surges at the hand-spikes, 
and up bobbed the cable through the horse-pole.” “All 
away, all away,” echoed half-a-dozen voices. The jibs were 
run up at a round. The vessel slowly turned upon her heel 
and pointed her prow toward the ocean. 

“ That’s quick done,” wheezed out a slim voice, sauntering 
abaftward, and panting for breath. 

“ Yes,” chuckled Uncle Loggy, “ many hands make light 
work.” 

The speaker was a superannuated fisherman, with a pair of 
duck-legs, run into a long lumpy body, like a couple of pegs, 
pushed into an oblong patch of dough. While the rest were 
getting the vessel under weigh, he, assuming the prerogative 
of veteran age, had quietly sat upon the combing of the hatch- 
way, a critical observer of the varied proceedings. 

All hands were now busy clearing up decks. Old Marl 
was the busiest of all. True to his antecedents as a regulai 
salt, he was coiling up, and laying away every rope and bit 
of yarn, with the nicety of a prim house-wife. “ Here, you 


COAST-SCENERT. 


65 


land-lubber,” ejaculated the sailor, to a youngster, who was 
complacently reclining over one of the kids, 

“Just tumble this batch of rigging down the hole abaft 
there.” 

As the lad turned away, tugging the huge coil after him, 
the Old Salt added, “ You mongrel fisherman have no more 
knack at keeping a vessel tidy than an Irish collier. A pretty 
muss the decks ’d be in, but for some one to look after you.” 

While thus getting under weigh, Walter was in a strange 
confusion of mind from the altogether novel and hurried 
movements around him. Disposed always to be useful, he 
was skipping about amid the bustle, ready at every one’s beck. 
But the manoeuvres of making sail over, he was again free to 
yield to his feelings. He now found the misty cloud of stu- 
por, that lay upon his soul on the eve of parting from his 
mother, to have dissipated ; and the bitter reality of the scene 
to come creeping in upon his spirit, like the penetrating 
drench of a raw east wind. As he gazed sadly upon the land 
of his home, slowly receding in the distance, his heart swelled 
within him, and a tear trembled in his eye, like the dickering 
of a forlorn hope. 

Still, these acrid feelings could not override the sentiment 
for the beautiful in Nature, to which a dove-like life had at- 
tuned his breast ; nor could they destroy the sweet soothing 
charm upon the sense, of the lovely scene unrolling around 
him. 

To the westward there stretched the straight line of coast, 
losing itself in the dim distance. Partially sombred by for- 
est, it was here and there brightened by some gayly painted 
building, bespeaking humble thrift. A soft morning haze 
hung over the land, creating a fantastic illusion, as if the 
Nymphs of the wood, and the Nereids of the sea were yet busy, 
weaving their matin love-spells. 

6 * 


66 


rilli: FISHER BOY. 


A couple of miles to the eastward, at the heel where the 
pliant coast bends square to the North, shoots off south-wes- 
terly, a spur in the form of a narrow strip of grassy knolled 
beach. These two meeting lines of coast, form the deep an- 
gular bay, enlived in the' summer by a variety of craft. 

On the vanishing point of the beach, plumed in the distance, 
like a downy sea-gull, was seen the unchanging light-house, 
to the tempest-tossed mariner the brightest vision of earth. 

Upon the horizon, hung here and there a white pinioned 
carrier of plenty, like an angel stooping from heaven. The 
roving eye would occasionally fall upon an intrepid solitary 
water-fowl, paddling fleetly over the scarcely ruffled bosom 
of the deep. These had lingered behind over winter. They 
might be likened to here and there a mortal whose eccentrici- 
ties defy the ordinary usages of life. 

Over the whole, the King of Day, which had just sprung 
from his briny couch, was flooding his royal beams, warming 
up the scene to a glowing beauty ; the spirit of which could 
only be kenned by the eye of the gifted soul. 

While Walter, reclining over the binnacle, wrapped in the 
sombre luxury of this melee of emotions, his not unpleasant 
reverie was broken by a rough voice, bidding him come to 
the cabin, and look after his things. 

Going there introduced him to another phase of his new 
life. 

In the pink-stern, on account of the narrowness of the 
stem, the cabin is more conveniently situated in the bow. 

Nick off the small end of an egg, lay below a narrow floor- 
ing, with a boxed seat quite around for transom ; fasten 
above this two tiers of shelves, for berths ; run some beams 
across overhead, to prevent the tumbling in of the roof. In 
this ceiling set a thick glass, two inches by three for dead 
light. Then at the outlet run up a ladder with steps instead 


NARROW ACCOMMODATIONS. 


G7 


of rounds, by the side of a narrow, straight fire-place and 
chimney on one hand, and a mouldy cup-board for dishes on 
the other ; the whole crowned by a wooden funnel, over the 
cliimney, and a little oval house over the gang-way, with a 
slide meeting, two short thick doors, to close the whole, and 
you have a semblance of the cabin of the Andes, — a name 
sufficiently imposing one would think for so tiny a craft as 
was the Pink. 

This subaqueous abode comprised a few cubic feet of room, 
and so low was it, as scarcely to enable the tallest to stand 
erect. The vessel had not been cleaned in the Fall, but had 
lain hauled up, on the flats, and there were accumulated the 
must and mould of a year’s gathering. As the motion of the 
vessel stirred up the bilge-water, the sickening stench thrown 
up, was enough to appal the stoutest nerves. What, then, to 
the sensitive taste of Walter, fresh from the sweet life of a 
soft home. 

Bah, what turkey-buzzard’s nest have we here,” drawled 
out Marl, worming his long sides down the gang-way. 

“ Not room enough to swing a cat round by the tail, — a 
dirty squeeze of it, before we get through, or I’ll be hanged.” 

“ He that’s born to be jammed to death, won’t be hung, 
drawled out a bleareyed fisherman.” 

“ Nor be tickled dead at the feet, whimpered a young sprig, 
perched upon the transom abaft. 

“ Yes, Old Marl, like other big fish, must have deep water 
to swim in. He’s one of your square-riggers, that need an 
ocean to veer and haul in,” gravely exclaimed another. 

“ Tut, tut, squealed the skipper. There’s many a worse 
place in the world. ’Twill be nothing, when you once get 
used to it. All things come by habit, you know.” 

While this bit of badinage was going on, the cook, a sturdy 
plant of some twelve summers, with head protruded into the 


68 


THE FISHER BOY. 


fireplace, holding a morsel of oakum under some ends of wood 
with one hand, and using his mouth for bellows, might be seen 
trying to coax the smothering fire into a blaze. 

By his side were strown a tea-kettle, a baking pan, and 
several tin-vessels, all completely imbedded in rust and 
mould. 

The first preliminary in setting things to rights in the 
cabin, was the distribution of berths. By an indisputable rule, 
the skipper takes the upper birth abaft, on the starboard side ; 
while the cook, as a matter of convenience, has a lower one 
by the side of the fire-place. These two sole officers provided 
for, — namely, the cook and the skipper, or skipper and cook, 
rather, the other berths are distributed among the crew by 
lot. 

Walter’s lot fell with that of a big-bodied man, in one of 
the narrow under berths. His blowzy companion looked of 
sufficient volume to fill all the little space himself; and the 
boy could not but have a strange feeling of disgust at the 
thought of lying in so dark, disagreeable a nook, with such an 
animal of a man for bed-fellow, — the more so, as ever before, 
he had either reposed in a neat cot alone, or by the side of his 
gentle, dear mother. 

“ But Fortune turns up for us strange bed-fellows.” 

Scarcely were the berths made up, when the sharp sound, 
‘‘hard a lee,” brought Walter to the deck. The wind, it 
seemed, had changed just as predicted by the wagoner ; and 
was now freshening in a gentle breeze from the south-west. 

The vessel had got well off the Point, and was now con- 
testing it with the stubborn little Cape. 

“ One more short tack, and we’ll fetch by,” said the man af 
the helm. Whereupon, about the vessel whirled, and befoiy 
Walter could gain a clear notion of their whereabouts, shf 
was in a position to weather the point all clear. 


CLEARING THE SHOALS. 


69 


She works like a well broke steer,” mused Marl. 

“ Which passage ? ” inquired the man at the helm. 

“ The inner one,” replied the skipper. “ Half tide, water 
enough, start the sheets,” he added. 

The main, fore and jib sheets were eased a little. The 
wind just at this moment freshened, as if catching the spirit 
of the scene. 

While the vessel, seized by the sweeping current, was born 
around the dizzying point, Walter was tlirilled with excite- 
ment. The scene was as novel as unique. The low distant 
point of the Cape, at first but a thread in the dim horizon, had 
now become a present, tangible object. The long, smooth, 
shelving beach, reaching into the bounding ocean, wound 
round and round, as if evading solution ; while the gliding 
panorama of the grassy knolls, the moving fight-house, and 
the walking masts of the vessels in the harbor, the specks of 
men strolling over the hills, and the sailing guUs dotting the 
air, but lent animation to the picture. 

The surface of the water was broken by boiling eddies, 
portending dark mysteries below. A little at the south was 
the dreaded Shovel-full, and further at the east, the long Pol- 
lock E-ip, heaving and cresting at intervals, as if laboring to 
throw up the bones of ship-wrecked mariners. 

Clear of the shoals, the sheets were eased fully olf, and the 
vessel’s bow kept direct for the Fishing Ground. 

Another set of preliminaries were now gone through with. 
The cables were unbent from the anchors, and coiled snugly 
away down the hold ; the slack of the halyards becketed up 
to the mast ; a barrel of salt clam bait opened ; and another 
lot cast for berths at the rail midships. 

The skipper took his, by privilege, a-mid-ships. A place 
over the anchor was set oif for the cook. And the rest of the 
space being divided, was distributed by lot. By good fortune 
Walter’s berth fell by the side of Marl. 


70 


THE FISHER BOY. 


^‘You’re as lucky as a colt,” chuckled Fishall. 

“ Well, why,” demanded the sailor, with a look of keen but 
open inquiry. 

“ Because you’ve got the boy by your side. He’ll be a 
pretty little tender to keep your lines from fouling,” sarcasti- 
cally reiterated Fishall. 

“Well, somebody must have the little fellow by him, I sup- 
pose,” muttered Marl, with a tone and air of rebuke. 

The berths appropriated, each in his own good time, added 
fixtures according to his liking, — such as elects upon the kids 
to belay his line to ; a little shelf for prepared bait, and a 
score in the rail, for the line to veer in. Lastly, the craft was 
brought up, and carefully put in its place. 

This useful gear consists of a pair of hooks fastened by 
gangings to pendants striding either a wooden or marled rope 
cross-tree. This is bent to a lead for sinker, to which the 
line is attached. Little iron or horn swivels terminate the 
pendants, that the entrapped fish may swing round without 
fouling the craft. 

When not in use, for the convenience of being portable, 
the line with the craft is kept wound upon a small hand 
reel. 

The hooks daintily filed, — an art by no means easy, and 
strung with bits of bait, the lead is' laid upon deck, and the 
pendants thrown over the rail, when all is ready. 

“Dinner’s ready,” shouted the cook, thrusting out of 
the gang-way his greasy face besmeared with sweat and 
smoke. 

“ Dinner,” reechoed the skipper in a lively voice. “ Come, 
boys, let’s down, and take a bite.” 

Except the helmsman and one or two of the youngsters, 
all were in a moment in the cabin. The latter yielding 
to the sway of the green king, were supinely coiled up 


FIRST DINNER AT SEA. 


71 


under the windlass, in total indifference to the turn of their 
fate. 

Walter felt no disposition to eat, but he was quite willing 
to follow the rest. As he descended the stairway a new sort 
of table greeted his eye. It was merely a long piece of pine 
board planed, with narrow strips nailed upon either side, to 
guard the dishes against the lurches of the sea. The upper 
end was set firmly upon two pegs ; while the lower which ex- 
tended nearly to the steps was supported by a wooden leg. It 
could be unshipped at pleasure. 

The cook, or Dunderfish as he was called, pitched upon the 
table two freighted tin pans ; the one filled with boiled salt 
cod and potatoes, and the other containing a frugal quantity 
of pork tried out to scraps. By the side of these, he added 
a huge but equivocally baked loaf of rye and Indian corn 
bread. 

Each of the crew now pulled from the edge of his berth a 
bright tin pan, an iron spoon, and knife, and the attack was 
commenced silently and in earnest. A few raw onions spar- 
ingly eaten, was the only condiment or dessert to the classic 
repast. 

Dinner over, each strolled about the vessel, as led by 
whim. One might have been seen stretched out in his berth, 
reading an old almanack; another, sitting upon the comb- 
ings of the hatchway, leisurely filing up a string of hooks ; 
while a third, with stub-pipe in mouth, and thoughts bent 
upon vacuity, was yawning in the sunniest spot to be found 
upon deck. 

As for Walter, the tender sentiment for home, waxed 
stronger, instead of waning in his breast ; and, as he noticed 
with strained eyes the low, narrow beach in the distance, 
from which they were flying, to grow fainter and fainter, until 
it disappeared below the horizon, giving place to an illimitable 


72 


THE FISHER BOY. 


watery waste, a forlorn feeling added poignancy to his senti- 
ments; and he was forced to turn aside, into some nook 
of the vessel, to disguise the tears that were fast blinding his 
eyes. 


CHAPTER VI. 


“ What care these roarers for the name of King 1 ” 

• Shakspearb. 

‘‘ There she blows,” shouted Fishall, who had just aroused 
from an extempore dozing. Drifting forward, yawning and 
rubbing his eyes, he commenced sweeping the blue expanse 
through his filmy peepers with the coolness of a naval quarter- 
master. 

“ Where away !” ejaculated some half-a-dozen voices, spring- 
ing at the same time to their feet, and rushing forward for a 
look. In fact, the scene was really animating. Several 
whales, grampuses, and lesser leviathans of the deep, were 
sending up at brief intervals, spoutings in graceful spray, or 
rolling up their huge shiny sides in evident satisfaction, 
while the air was enlivened by here and there a clean gannet, 
or flapping sea-gull, sailing and wheeling through the upper 
deep, with most airy pinion. 

“ Fish there, you may depend on,” brightened up Loggy. 
‘‘ Always fish where you see them ar customers.” 

“ Shall we come to, and catch a fresh one,” asked Fishall, 
looking inquiringly at the skipper, and seizing the jib-halyards 
with a motion to let them go. 

We’ll run a little longer,” musingly answered the skipper, 
who in a stooping posture, was straining his eyes under the 
main-sail, as if to pierce the future. “We’re now only on the 
edge of the ground.” 

This life appearance upon the water, and in the air around 
them, sent a thrill of animation through every one on board. 

7 (73) 


74 


THE FISHER BOY. 


The most sluggish clay seemed endowed all at once, with a 
most marvellous vitality. It brought vividly before them, the 
very gist of their voyage, — namely, fish-catching. 

How trivial an affair will often enkindle aglow the human 
breast. Vaulting ambition is as near being appeased, by the 
successful sway of a fishing rod, as by wielding the sceptre of 
empire, — by the catching of a fish, as by the capture of an 
argosy. How fortunate for man, that humble schemes, as 
well as grand designs, are alike suited to awaken enthusiasm 
and inspire action. 

Judging now the vessel far enough over the ground, he 
gave the order for coming to. Whereupon down went the 
jib, and half-a-dozen willing hands at the down-haul fetched 
it smack and smooth to the bowsprit. The main and fore 
sheets were eased off*, and the helm becketed to the leeward. 
The lively craft, as if a conscious being, came boldly up to 
the wind, dashed off* the spray from her fore foot, and, after 
shaking her canvas in the wind, veered off*, and commenced 
a steady drift to the leeward, as if taking up a regular line of 
conduct. 

“ Chuck, chuck, chuck,” dropped some eight or ten leads 
over into the water, bearing as many crafts toward the bottom 
for the first catch of the trip. But Walter was vexatiously 
behind the rest. It was many a posing moment, before he 
ventured to let go his lead at all, and when he did come to so 
bold a determination, he was doomed to deep chagrin ; for the 
hooks, either eager for capture, or reluctant to leave the deck, 
caught in the scuppers, and held fast. With much plague 
disengaged from this, then came the endless unwinding, which 
made the elbows fairly ache with fatigue. 

The whole crew, now inspired with hope, were ranged along 
the vessel’s rail. Each crouched forward, with line gripped 
with nippers in right hand, wrist resting upon rail, and feet 


CATCHING FISH. 


75 


planted firmly upon deck, waiting for a jerk back. Mute 
they were, as if the recognition of a bite depended upon hear- 
ing as well as feeling. 

“ See — see,” jerked back Fishall ; and in a moment, was 
hauling in his line with a set gait. 

“ Ah, he’s here,” chuckled Loggy. “ Got him on ? ” asked 
a half-a-dozen voices. To this FishaU made no further reply, 
than setting to more vigorously, as if the matter were too mo- 
mentous for speech. 

Hooking a fish added to the general ardor. Each now 
bent lower to the rail, reaching forward his hand with intense 
expectancy. 

Presently, a nibble was felt; then, another fish was 
hooked. Marl was now seen hauling one from the bottom, 
with his easy, swinging gait ; and, all on board was the liveliest 
activity. 

But Walter all this time, was in the sorriest predicament. 
In the first place, to hold the line at all, against the superin- 
cumbent weight of the ocean, taxed to the utmost his fragile 
strength. Then his nippers, not “ broke,” but increased the 
difficulty. At every roll of the vessel, the additional strain to 
his hand left the impression of a bite. And no sooner over 
this illusion, than there came another — namely, the frequent 
bobbing of the lead against the bottom. 

In his confusion of mind, the notion crept in upon him, that 
it must be a fish weighing so heavily upon his line, — per- 
haps, a couple. Elated with the conviction, he struck at once 
to hauling up, but the first effort convinced him that the thing 
was not so easy as he imagined. In fact, he could not at first 
budge his line at all ; but no one coming to his aid, he braced 
both feet against the bulwark, and laying back with full might, 
with both hands, he made out at length to start it an inch or 
two ; then fleeting and repeating the process, thanks to the 


76 


THE FISHER BOY. 


gradual lightening of the weight, he finally succeeded in draw- 
ing his craft to the surface. 

The moment he could get breath, he cast an eager glance 
over the side, to gain a sight of the captives. But how con- 
founded was he to see no fishes, — but, instead, simply two 
hooks, — bare, save a shell-fish to one, and a bit of rock weed 
to the other. As for the rest, the pendants and gangings, 
were wound around the cross-sticks, in a pretty snarl. 

The boy’s fiushed assurance on starting to haul up, the 
hero-like pluck, with which he tugged away so perseveringly, 
his virgin breast swelling with hope, and as he gained the goal' 
of effort, the proud air of triumph, with which his features 
glowed, as he darted his eyes over the vessel’s side to greet 
his prizes, — this, contrasted with the flat dejection that with- 
ered up his countenance, as the truth gleamed up, gave rise 
to a broad chuckle from the crew, at so ludicrous a discom- 
fiture. 

The snickering of the hands at the ridiculous abortion of 
this his first attempt at fish-taking, was indeed dampening to 
the ardor of the boy, but it did not paralyze his ambition. By 
the aid of Marl to clear his craft, and bait anew his hooks, he 
was soon again in trim. He once more threw his lead, with 
animating hope for better luck. Indeed, as the line hobbled 
over the rail, in its hasty descent, and the glow of reaction 
suffused his nerves, the spirit of the boy lit up into a blaze of 
energy he was not before conscious of possessing. It was 
the exquisite experience of a newly born. True, he had not 
actually caught a fish, but having worsted through the toil, he 
felt himself on the high road of success. He was at least, in 
the circle of activity. The chain of lassitude was broken. 
The future rose up in buoyant mirage. A manly feeling 
throbbed his breast. 

The sun had now sunk below the horizon. The shades of 


nOME-SICKNESS. 


77 


niglit began to gather round. The biting having ceased, the 
skipper gave the word hroaters, — a term in the fisherman’s 
nomenclature, signifying that all fishes taken after that sound 
is heard, are not reckoned to the catcher, but confiscated for 
the general benefit of the voyage. 

The leads were drawn in ’upon deck, their catch of fish 
dressed down, and salted in the hold. 

“ Shall we heave too, now,” demanded Fishall. To which 
the skipper replied, “ yes.” 

Accordingly, the jib was stowed, the main-sail furled, the 
fore-sheets hauled abaft, when the obedient craft stivered 
along by the wind, just of a pace to hold her ground for the 
morrow. 

“Well, the hussy’s got on her night-cap, and ’tis well 
aired,” quoth Marl, glancing at the fore-sail, as he stretched 
slowly his lank sides, down the gang-way. “ I hope she’ll 
have a quiet night’s rest of it,” he added, peering dubiously 
around the horizon. “ At any rate Fm down for a doze.” 

Not many less than a dozen souls, or rather bodies, 
squeezed into so narrow quarters, as the Pink’s cabin, were 
enough to give an uncomfortable feeling to any one, especially 
to a novice on board a fishing-vessel, but Walter was fast be- 
coming used to the straits of his new life ; and just now his 
spirit was too crushed with painful regrets of home, to be 
alive to anything in the form of mere inconvenience. 

The hilarity of the crew, instead of diverting the current of 
his feelings, only added impetus to their flow. The low jest- 
ing of these men about the qualms of home-sickness, seemed 
the very quintescence of mockery. Each jibe went like an 
arrow against his heart. It swept like the breath of the grave 
over the blossom of his affections. 

“ We’ll take supper,” demanded the skipper. Whereupon 
a couple of huge tin-pans, filled with savory cod-fish chowder, 

7 * 


78 


THE FISHER BOY. 


were set smoking upon the table. As the white layers ol 
muscle rolled up above the impregnated water, like coral islets 
amid a spicy sea, the simple viand looked tempting enough for 
the dainty palate of a king. 

The hungry crew did ample justice to the savory dish ; for 
pan full after pan full disappeared in rapid turn. What sep- 
ulchre more unrelenting than a fisherman’s maw ! 

Yet Walter could swallow but a mouthful. A deeper feel- 
ing than the sense of hunger was reigning within. Scarcely 
had Loggy gulped his last mouthful, before the boy who had 
j’emained at the table, in gentle deference to his betters, wist- 
fully sought the deck, for the sweet luxury of solitude. 

As he rushed into the night air, all seemed in harmony 
with his emotions. Yet a species of beauty of* a sad and ten- 
der cast, broke upon his spirit. Night had shut down in dark 
folds upon the gentle bosom of the muttering ocean. Through 
the ether of the arching vault, the clustering stars were spark- 
ling like brilliants set in a canopy of jet velvet. To the fancy 
of Walter, they were Angel eyes, looking down upon him in 
sweet sympathy, and discoursing of the deep, yearning affec- 
tion of a mother’s heart. 

Reclining upon the hatch-way the boy yielded to the tender 
memories swelhng his breast. How strange and unreal seemed 
to him the rapid scenes of the day, — the startling anticipation 
that hove up in his breast, the tender parting from his mother 
— the novel society into which he had been thrown, — the 
introductory scenes of a fishing-life. Indeed, he could scarcely 
believe himself the same being that he was the evening be- 
fore. He seemed to have burst upon a new existence ; and 
the past already began to mellow off into the back distance, 
like the dim outline of a receding coast. 

He was aroused from this soft reverie by a call from the 
cx)ok to appear in the cabin. He found them setting th© 


STANDING WATCH. 


79 


watch ; and they were discussing with warmth, whether Wal- 
ter should be called to take his with the rest. 

He’s got to come to it sometime, insisted Fishall,’ measuring 
the boy’s ability with his own feeling of vigor. He might as 
well begin first as last. The sooner commenced the quicker 
over. 

“ My notion is to break in at once. ’Tis the way father 
served his boys. There was no babying with him.” 

“ Yes, yes,” squealed Loggy. “ I knew your father well. 
He was a man, every inch of him — high fisherman for twenty 
years. His boys didn’t get any favors, neither at sea, nor 
ashore ; no ship’s cousins where he was, and he made men 
worth something of them all. In fact, boys were good for 
something in them days, in olden time, when I 'was young. 
But what are they fit for now but to eat, and be in the way ? ” 

“ You’re a set of boobies, to get up such a row about noth- 
ing,” growled Marl. “ You’ll give the boy time to ship on 
his sea-legs, won’t ye. Let me have his watch, if ’tis such a 
drug. One would think that nine men could manage a night, 
without calling on the little fellow. Let him sleep, and dream 
of his mother, and of the red roses under her window. Grim- 
faced hardship’ll come soon enough, at longest. Then don’t 
thrust his young neck into the yoke, before he’s strength to 
wear it.” 

The skipper, always a peace-maker, decided that a watch 
should be given the boy, but arranged that it should follow 
his own, so that, in hard or foul weather, he could look out 
for the lad. 

Walter felt relieved when the controversy was over. To 
be the occasion of excited feeling, was extremely painful to 
his sensitive nature. He felt many misgivings as to his abil- 
ity to stand watch, but he would undertake any improbability, 
rather than so fall under the lash of words. 


80 


THE FISHER BOY. 


Matters settled, the boy flung off jacket and boots, and 
cra^Yled into his berth. But it was a weary hour, before he 
fell into slumber. He could not abstract his thoughts from 
the crowd of emotions throngmg his breast. Then his novel 
situation was by no means soothing to his mind. 

The water strilcing against the fore-foot, then gently gurg- 
ling past, oddly seized his imagination; and when he was 
wont to fall into a doze, he had the illusion of sinking to the 
bottom, while the waves closed in whirlpools above him. But 
Nature, though yielding, never relinquishes her claims ; and 
the boy at length fell firm to sleep. 

A loud thump before the gang-way, was the first intimation 
he had of morning. This rough summons twice repeated, was 
followed by ‘ all hands a-hoy, up boys, and catch a thousand. 
He aroused with a peculiar sense of oppressiveness, from the 
foul atmosphere he had been re-breathing. 

A lurid light was faintly struggling from the tin cabin-lamp. 
The crew, one after another, commenced crawling from their 
bunks, rubbing their eyes, fetching a low grunt, and appearing 
as unwilling, as if about being summoned to the executioner’s 
block. Beaching the deck, each, under that talisman, habit, 
went straight to work without orders. The main-sail was 
loosed and run up, the fore-sheet eased off, and the craft thus 
hove to for fishing. 

There was at first no indication of fishes around. But the 
habit-ridden crew ranged themselves at the rail, as men fol- 
lowing the humble bent of routine. There they stood, mutely 
attentive, as if enveloped in a mixed cloud of doubt and ex- 
pectancy. Yet the tardy biting gave Walter leisure to watch 
the gradual incoming of glorious day. 

The darkness, that for eight hours had brooded over the 
fathomless abyss, was fast withdrawing into the bosom of morn. 
Already the intense blue of the sky began to soften. The 


SUN-RISE. 


81 


sentinel stars that had beamed all night with undimmed lustre, 
one by one now veiled their faces, as if in modest deference 
to the approach of an august personage. Steadily, the won- 
drous transfiguration went on, as if an unseen hand were 
changing the scenery of the heavens. Dusky Night was be- 
ing transformed to refulgent Day. Presently, arrows of light 
began to shoot up along the eastern sky. Soon the entire 
east was ablaze, filling the whole celestial coneave with the 
inflowing tide of morning light. At length, the everlasting 
gates of morning were thrown wide open. A bright point as 
a flash of lightning appeared. It darted a golden gleam over 
the waters, and * touched with rosy tint, here and there, a 
fleecy cloud floating airily in the blue azure. It seemed that 
heaven and ocean were inelining to the salutation of a morn- 
ing kiss. He now appeared in full, the King of Day, spring- 
ing from his briny couch, with the elasticity of youth, and the 
splendor of royalty. Polling in a mantle of effulgence, he 
climbed rapidly the vaulted arch-way, flinging broadly his 
cheering rays, and flooding ocean and heaven with his impe- 
rial light. 

To Walter, the scene was glorious beyond expression. 
He remained for some time rapt in the exaltation of his 
emotions. His soul seemed lifted to celestial heights, by the 
grand sublimity of the scene ; while the bursting beauties of 
day, suffused his faculties with a glow of dewy freshness, that 
transfixed him motionless with delight. 

And what scene in Nature more inspiring with noble emo- 
tions, than a fine sun-rise at sea. A beautiful sunset may 
awaken a more pensive feeling of tenderness ; but when 
heralded by Aurora, uplifting the raven wings of night, the 
all benign eye of the universe darts up from below the molten 
horizon, casting broad around his genial stare, the soul re- 
ceives a renovation of life, and is raised to heights of grati 
tude, inexpressible. 


82 


THE FISHER EOT. 


Meanwhile biting had begun, and was now increasing with 
welcome pertinacity. The crew warmed into activity gave 
way with brisk ardor. As for Walter, he had caught one. 
The successful feat brought a congratulatory shout from all 
around ; and, as the huge fish, drowned stone dead, made its 
stark appearance to the surface, lightened by being poke- 
blown, it seemed that the Fates themselves had relented in 
sympathy for the toilsome hauling up of the boy. 

“ Sate ye,” shouted the cook, — the fisherman’s expres- 
sive call for breakfast. The crew gave a glance in the direc- 
tion of the sound, but no one, at first, heeded the summons. 
The feeling seemed to be, that the opportunity just then, was 
too favorable for securing their end, to justify the losing of 
time in eating. But in a moment. Marl, planting his lead 
upon deck, wringing leisurely his nippers, and attaching them 
to his line, stalked off toward the gang-way. “ I’ve no idea 
of starving this poor body, for a few tom-cod, more or less. 
The devil will get me soon enough at the longest,” muttered 
the salt as he disappeared below. 

Fishall availing of an unappropriated moment, snatched 
from the cabin a tin-pan of meal pudding, pork and molasses, 
with the tail of a fish for rasher. These he conveniently des- 
patched in the intervals of the line’s running. “ Make hay 
while the sun shines,” complacently ejaculated the fisherman, 
smacking his lips at the last morsel, evidently pleased at the 
thought of having kept so even a race with fast running Time. 

As for the rest of the crew, each in his own peculiar way, 
managed at last, to get a bite of breakfast. 

As the day strode on, the fishes grew more and more vora- 
cious. They lay flapping and gasping in the kids and upon 
the decks, wretched victims of man’s cupidity. The scene 
was sadly animating ; and Walter was struck with the relent- 
less energy with which man pursues his prey. 


UNPLEASANT PROSPECT. 


83 


In the ardor of fish-taking, the day sped on, as on eagles’ 
pinions. It was now that early hour of the afternoon, when 
the sun looks down Tyith fiercest ray. The light morning air 
had fallen to a calm. The vast ocean lay hushed, like a 
sleeping infant. The heat came down ablaze. The sky was 
clear of a cloud, except an ominous haze that was beginning 
to gather up in the south-western horizon. 

“ A sure weather-breeder this,” portentously muttered Log- 
gy, glancing toward the north-east, “ catching season this,” 
he added, in a drawling tone, as if listening to what response 
would come from the rest of the crew. 

“ Poll,” sarcastically rejoined Fishall, giving way at his 
line with redoubled energy, animated very likely with the be- 
lief of a double game ; and vexed at having to speak at all, 
amid his glowing enthusiasm for the sport. “ Poh, we’ve been 
out so long, that I suppose you’d have us run in any way. 
But since we’re on the ground. I’m for catching a fresh mess, 
at least, so as not to get the laugh upon us.” 

“ Who spoke of running in, retorted Loggy, bridling quickly 
up at such rude snubbing ; and that from Fishall, whom he 
had sided with but a moment before. I only mentioned the 
looks of the weather, and the catching season of the year. 
“ Yes, yes, you youngsters are brave enough in fine weather, 
but when the pinch of the game comes, what are you good for ? 
’Tis an old saying and a true one, that ‘ know nothing fear? 
nothing.’ But as for me, I’ve had too many brushes about 
here, to crave any more in my old age. Besides, I’d just as 
soon my poor old bones would lie at rest in the good church- 
yard at home, as to be eternally drifting around among these 
dreadful shoals.” 

These last words fell in so mournful a tone, as to disarm 
Fishall of all temper for retort. The controversy, besides, 
was cut short, by a significant look from the skipper, who. 


84 


THE FISHER BOY. 


amiable and yielding to a fault, yet had been too long on 
board a square-rigger to succumb all dignity, even on board 
so insignificant a craft as the Pink Stern. ^ 

The sun in his tireless course had now well nigh reached 
the western horizon. His face was slightly veiled by frizzly, 
smoky clouds set deep in the vault, and reaching nearly 
around the circle of the horizon. 

The biting having slackened, the skipper gave the word 
hroaters ! At once, all leads were drawn in upon deck, and 
preparations made for dressing down. Each one- struck upon 
his line of duty, like men knowing their parts, and moved by 
an inward spring to perform them. 

The idler, as he is called, counted out the fishes each man 
had caught, and gave him his tally to remember. The 
throater, after sharpening his knife, drew it across the throat 
of the fish, ripped down the belly as far as the navel, and then 
giving a slight cut on each side of the neck, to facilitate break- 
ing the head from the back-bone, passed it on. The header, 
seizing the fish in one hand, drew it upon the table — a rough 
board, with one end fastened into the rail, and the other sup- 
ported by a couple of legs to the deck, — first picked out the 
liver, to be preserved ; and then tearing out the entrails, and 
jerking off the head to be thrown away, passed it to his com- 
panion, the splitter. 

This latter, who was no less a personage than the skipper 
himself, after placing the fish against the cleet to prevent its 
slipping, drew his knife the whole length of the fish, cleaving 
the flesh from one side of the back-bone, then cutting off and 
ripping out the back-bone, from the navel up, thus performed 
his part. The idler pitched the splitted fishes into the hold 
of the vessel, where they were salted in benches by the 
salter. ^ 

In this way, the work of dressing down continued to go 


TEMPTATION. 


85 


briskly on. Night had now fairly enshrouded the heavens. 
Her reign seemed the more complete, because of the dark 
gathering of the approaching storm. Not a peering star was 
visible. The gale had not yet begun to freshen, yet its sure 
on-coming was felt by every experienced fisherman on board. 
There are certain premonitions of Nature, that to a mariner 
at sea, portend a storm with a certainty rarely mistaken. 

“ Thick fish these,’’ at length broke Fishall. _ Not more 
than three thousand of them for a hundred quintals, I calcu- 
late. 

“ Yes, if we could only get enough of them,” joined the 
skipper. 

“ Grog,” drawled out the cook, thrusting at the same time 
into the skipper’s face, a britannia tumbler, two-thirds filled 
with a warm mixture of New England rum, water and molas- 
ses, with a sprinkling of ginger added. 

“ Hem,” grunted the skipper with satisfaction, as he drained 
the last drop. 

“ Ah, that goes to the right spot,” ejaculated Loggy, speak- 
ing up for once, in something of a shrill voice, as he quaffed 
in turn his portion of the exhilarating liquid. 

At last the tumbler was presented to Walter. He hesi- 
tated. It was then the dawning period of the Temperance 
reform ; and although he had never himself signed the pledge, 
yet he had become alive to the fearful evil of intemperance, 
as well as impressed with a sense of its being the duty of 
every one to refrain from the intoxicating cup. 

“ Take a little,” urged Loggy, straightening up slowly from 
the bent position imposed upon him by- the duty of throating, 
and regaining his perpendicular, with as much caution as one 
would exercise in taking the crook out of a rusty piece of iron, 
that he would avoid fracturing. 

“ Take a drop, ’twon’t hurt you, I’ll be bound. But ’twill 

8 


86 


THE FISHER BOY. 


thaw the numbness out of your limbs, and help shake off the 
night fog. 

Walter had begun to experience the dismay that seizes the 
green hand at sea, in the exposure to ridicule which noncon- 
formity to established usage on board exposes him. Besides, 
of a yielding disposition, he had come to the conclusion, with- 
out reasoning upon the justness of such a course, that he 
would simply acquiesce in whatever might turn up to be the 
order of things. 

In this mood, he put the cup to his lips intending to sip but 
a drop, merely for form’s sake, but the first swallow diffused 
such a genial glow throughout his system, that he quaffed the 
whole without wishing to stop. 

“ That’s you, my brave,” shouted the old fisherman, animated 
to a high pitch ; and groping his hand along in the dark to 
feel the cup, in order to make sure that the boy had actually 
finished the dram. “ That’s you.” . Away with all this ashore 
fol-de-rol, that I’ll warrant they’ve been stuffing you up with. 
Stick to your fishing-gear, and you’ll come out a man yet.” 

“ Temperance lectures,” he continued, “ may answer weU 
enough for parsons and their deacons to tom-fool the women 
folks at home with, especially when these sancties have a 
plenty of the critter in their cellars, in the shape of good Old 
Madeira; but ’tis shabby doctrine for the poor fisherman, 
standing cold and wet all day long at the rail — and ten to 
one having to dress down in the night. At such times, a drop 
or two now and then seems to go to the right spot, and put 
new life into a man. They prate about its being bad for the 
health, shortening life, and such sort of fandangos ; but I don’t 
see any so strong constitution men now-a-davs, as used to 
be when I was young, and then every vessel that sailed for 
the banks, took along at least a dozen barrels of New Eng- 
land rum, besides a ten gallon keg full for each of the crew.” 


SCRUBBING. 


87 


This extraordinary effort of the old fisherman, so in disa- 
greement with his customary taciturn mood, seemed to arouse 
the crew from the lethargy which incessant work, and the 
chilly air had induced, and for a little while, there was a lively 
badinage going around, at the expense of shore occupations in 
general, and temperance societies in particular. 

All this was far, however, from dissuading Walter that in- 
temperance is not a gigantic evil. Still, the boy in his nar- 
row judgment could not help but feel, that there lies after all 
a difference between theory and practice ; and although a pic- 
ture as true as startling may be drawn of the monstrous vice 
of drinking, still, when of a gloomy night, wet, chilled, and 
drooping with fatigue, the spirits sunk to zero, a little warm 
mixture may have the effect to revive the sinking spirits ; 
falling upon the feelings like the grateful tones of a congenial 
acquaintance, which dispels the clouds of dejection, brooding 
over the soul of a dreary day of life. 

At length came from the table the lively sounds of the 
splitter’s knife, accompanied by the following solo, 

“ Always more, and never less, 

Every time we come to dress.-’ 

The intelligence sent a thrill of gladness to every breast, 
'such, indeed, as few landsmen can conceive. 

The dressing tables were now unshipped and stowed away, 
with an alacrity known only to willing hands. Then came 
the rinsing of the kids, and scrubbing and washing of the deck 
of its gurry, a matter of but a moment’s time, with the abund- 
ance of water, so accessible from the briny fount of Neptune. 

This done, each made personal ablutions which were 
copious, thanks to oil clothing, then just coming into vogue, — 
an invention by the way, which has proved a real boon to the 


88 


THE FISHER BOY. 


fisherman. As brief as was the interval that had transpired, 
the salter had thrown the last handful upon the fish, and was 
now upon deck, briskly washing off with the rest. 

The wind, which had been veering round to the south-east, 
against the sun, began gradually to freshen. The dark, chilly 
air seemed instinct with the spirit of a terrific storm. A vague 
sense of this crept over the soul of each fisherman on board, 
but it found no utterance, save in a certain ominous silence, 
that reveals often with more significance than mere words. 
Danger at sea ordinarily lends no tongue to the seaman. A 
certain grave, portentous air is the nearest expression to trepi- 
dation that he commonly evinces. Men by’ grappling with 
the elements, lose, for them, by degrees, superstitious rever- 
ence. It may be that the conviction of being ushered sud- 
denly upon the brink of eternity — in the very presence of 
Deity, strikes the soul with an awe so profound, as to seal for 
a time, the fountains of speech ! 

The last little duty was to run up in the rigging the ship’s 
big lantern, the fisherman’s star of hope against collision at 
sea. The light being well guyed out, one after another of the 
crew dropped below, with an appetite clamoring for supper. 
The repast on this evening consisted of boiled fish, with one 
other dish quite common at that time. 

This, in the fisherman’s expressive language, was termed 
squeal. It was no more nor less than water gruel sweetened 
with molasses, except that there were added little lumps of 
dough boiled in, termed dodgers, a soubriquet not altogether 
inappropriate, since from their greater specific gravity, they 
naturally sank, requiring as great a degree of skill to fish 
them up from the bottom of the dish with the spoon, as it 
would to hook a dainty tom-cod from the depths of the sea. 

It may be observed that supper was preceded by another 
allowance of grog. The only distinctive feature in the cere* 


ACCOUNT BOOK. 


89 


mony of drinking this time was, the accompaniment of a pithy 
toast. “ Here’s to wives and sweethearts,” said the skipper, 
as he raised the cup to drink ; then, as the last drop was sip- 
ped, his lips involuntarily smacked, as if the delicious senti- 
ment had imparted additional zest to the sweet draught. 

Round went the cup, each monotonously repeating the 
homily, except the bachelors, who very complacently changed 
the sentence to “ sweethearts and wives.” When Walter’s 
turn came, he faltered. The language shocked his sensibili- 
ties. He was about drinking without giving the toast, but 
Fishall interfered, and declared that he should give it. The 
boy, to end the matter, made the attempt, but foundered in the 
effort from the trepidation of sheer modesty. The scene 
brought a hoarse chuckle, at the expense of the boy’s better 
feelings. 

Supper over, the skipper picking thoughtfully his teeth for 
a moment, with a fish-bone, pulled out a manuscript book, 
having an ample duck cover. This was so dingy as to war- 
rant the belief of its having served a like purpose for several 
fishing-seasons, and had, at last, been transformed from an old 
body to a new one, as a reward for faithful service. 

He began writing in it the number of fishes caught by each 
man opposite his name, taking always the catcher’s word for 
accuracy. 

“ Strange life, eh, boy,” remarked Loggy, observing Walter 
to look with an air of curiosity. 

“I was thinking,” replied Walter, “what that book can 
have to do Avith the business of our voyage.” 

“ Why, oh, that is the fish account book, and an important 
book it is too. If it were lost, the voyage could not be settled 
fairly.” 

“ How so,” observed AYalter. 

“ Well, well,” stammered Loggy, “ I don’t know that I can 
8 * 


90 


THE FISHER BOY. 


explain all about it clearlj, but the skipper can. He’s got 
the learning, — Poor I, never went to school but one win- 
ter.” 

The skipper began — The footing up of the columns shows 
not only the aggregate of fishes taken on board, but the rela- 
tive number taken by each man. The settlement of the voy- 
age usually takes place in the winter, and is done in this 
wise : 

From the gross stock is first subtracted the general ex- 
pense. One, fourth of the residue, is set off as the vessel’s 
earnings. Then there is taken out one eighth for the shore- 
man for curing the fishes, and one sixty-fourth for the skip- 
per’s privilege. The residue is then divided among the crew 
according to the number of fishes each one has taken. From 
the gross share of each, subtract his personal expense, and 
you have the clear make of each man. 

The account of fishes taken, all, save the watch, threw them- 
selves into the berths, for a night’s rest. Walter drooping 
from effort and exposure, soon forgot his memories in the 
oblivion of sleep. 

He was awakened some time in the night by the brusk 
movements of his bed fellow. Springing up, he found the 
crew hastily drawing on their oil clothes, and confusedly fum- 
bling up the gang-way. 

As soon as he found himself able, he mechanically followed. 
But no sooner had his feet touched the cabin floor, than he 
felt the vessel to be pitching in desperate energy ; and as his 
face met the midnight air, he was struck nearly with suffoca 
tion, by the fierce confusion of the elements. The gusty wind 
came, as if winged by a mad fury. It shot the large, pitiless 
drops of rain in blinding hate. The thick darkness was re- 
lieved only by the crested waves, that lay thickly on the 
lashed deep, like startling phantoms. The vessel seemed 


A “SO-EASTER.” 


91 


agonizing with the infuriated elements. The scene struck 
Walter with fearful dismay. Indeed, he could only shut his 
eyes in very vertigo of soul, at some desperate plunge of the 
vitalized craft ; or dodge below, as some supermaddened bil- 
low surcharged the deck with its foamy spite. 

The practiced hands of the crew, nerved with energy, soon 
brought the vessel to a double-reefed foresail. The over- 
tasked jade now labored more easily, and the crew retreated 
to the cabin. 

“ A screamer, this,” observed Fishall. “ No . fish to-mor- 
row.” 

“ Nor is that the worst of it,” added Marl. “ For if the 
wind should whip round to the north-east, as it often does in 
such gales, we’re in no comfortable situation, away down here 
between Nantucket shoals and Chatham bars. These shoals 
are savage customers. They’ve taken the live oak keel out 
of many a stauncher craft than this little hooker.” 

“ But So-easters are generally short-winded, especially 
when, like this, they come butt-end foremost,” observed Bog- 
gy. This pertinent remark of the Old Fisherman, seemed to 
tranquillize the rest of the crew ; for each returned to his berth 
without further conversation. 

The boy had become so electrified by the harrowing tumult 
of the gale, that it was now many a feverish moment, before 
his startled senses could be tranquillized to sleep. But when 
he did sink beneath the wave of slumber, the whistling wind 
through the cordage, and the wild tossing of the vessel, only 
came as a wafting lullaby; for when he awoke, he found 
benignant day had akeady beamed, and the morning far ad- 
vanced. 

The watch seated upon one of the chests in the cabin, wore 
a doleful face ; while the cook after having persevered vainly 
to knock up a fire, had at length hopelessly abandoned the 


92 


THE FISHER BOY. 


attempt. He was now beguiling the time, in giving utterance 
to many a plaintive anathema at the unlucky turn of his stars. 
All hands were now called to wear ship. The crew promptly 
mustered, but with a shivering, reluctant movement, as if in 
mortal dread of the very touch of exposure. 

As Walter, the last one up, reached the topmost step of the 
gang-way, the wild sublimity of the scene without, burst upon 
his frenzied gaze, like the breaking forth of a new creation. 
Its terrific grandeur, while it struck with awe, elevated the 
soul to a height of giddy entrancement. The wind which had 
veered square to the north, was still blowing a furious gale. 
The deep, dark curtain, that during the night had completely 
canopied the sky, had been wildly rent by the storm king, and 
the fleecy fragments were now being rolled in deep moving 
masses, as if quivering in the breath of old Boreas himself. 

The sea, under the pressure of the gale, was lifted to moun- 
tain heights, and the fierce aspect of the crested, ridgy waves, 
lent an intense thrill to the emotion of the beholder. 

As for the tiny vessel, she reeled and tossed amid the tu- 
multuous surges of the upheaving deep, as potentless as an 
egg-shell upon the surface of a boiling caldron. 

What scene of earth compared to the sublimity of a storm 
at sea ? How profound and intense the emotions it awakens ! 
Here, the very finger of Deity seems to move in wrathful 
power before the eye, and the soul involuntarily cowers into 
self-insignificance, in presence of such irresistible might. 

Wearing ship at sea is a critical evolution. To the excited 
vision of Walter, it magnified to one of imminent peril. But 
there seemed no other alternative ; for continuing their pres- 
ent tack, would inevitably cast them upon the relentless shoals 
under their lee, clamoring for victims. Accordingly, each 
took his part of duty, as men left to no choice. 

An experienced hand took his place at the foremast, ani 


STORM AT SEA. 


93 


laid the fore peak halyards clear for running. Another stood 
ready at the fore-sheet. The skipper then unbecketed the 
tiller, and steered the vessel cautiously around upon the other 
tack. 

As the bow of the obedient craft fell off from the sea, her , 
motion rapidly increased, as if by some unseen agency. And^ 
when she got in the position directly before the wind, what 
with the herculean force of the gale, and the powerful surg- 
ings of the sea, she rushed with a momentum absolutely diz- 
zying. At this moment the fore-sheet was hauled in flat, and 
as the peak flew over, both it and the peak halyards were al- 
lowed to fly. As the ropes veered with lightning swiftness 
over the cleets, it sent a thrill of trepidation to the boy, that 
for the moment nearly stopped his breath. 

A vessel was now descried near them. The sight sent a 
gleam of gladness to every breast. To Walter it seemed a 
star of Hope. It lifted suddenly the cloud of despair brooding 
over his feelings, as a flash of lightning glimmers amid the 
surrounding darkness. What more cheering than the sight 
of a vessel at sea? Especially in a storm is the blessed 
vision like the warm grasp of a friend in adversity. Droop- 
ing courage is suddenly revived. Even death itself is less 
bitter, when we share the dread fate with fellow mortals. 

But the other vessel seemed to Walter to be in the most 
distressed condition possible. She pitched and rolled in ap- 
parent helplessness. At one moment reeling like a drunken 
man, with topmast verging to the water’s surface, then despe- 
rately raising her prow, as if about to make madly a final 
plunge. 

At the next moment, she would recede off into a hollow, 
between two mountain seas, when nothing but -the top of her 
masts could be seen, giving, belief that she was settling down, 
down, to the bottom of the great deep, never more to rise. 


94 


THE FISHER BOY. 


Then of a sudden she would rise swiftly up to the ridge of a 
mammoth wave, as if capricious Ocean had relented his late 
purpose, and was now going to toss the tiny craft to the brow 
of heaven. 

Walter was not aware that his own vessel was making all 
the time precisely similar antics, — that what he beheld was 
in fact, merely one of those striking marine illusions, which, 
like the deceptive visions of life, present vividly to us the 
dangers and irregularities of others, while we remain blind to 
the incongruities of our own life. 

As one after another of these huge seas, or old soivs, as 
Loggy called them, paid their unwelcome compliments to the 
fragile craft, the shock sent a thrill of terror to the breast of 
the boy. At length there appeared a monster of the species. 
It rushed on bristling and foaming like a maddened war 
charger. It struck the vessel so ponderously, as to sweep the 
decks, and pour down the cabin in engulfing streams. 

A momentary dizziness passed athwart the brain of the 
boy, followed by a leaping of spirit to know the worst. The 
tremendous shock, the helpless position of the vessel, and the 
cry from the watch, that all had gone by the board, brought 
every man with a bound from his berth ; and when the stream- 
ing deck, the naked stanchions, like trees after a sweeping 
lire, broke to view, an exclamation of dejection was upon 
every lip. 

But there was no time to bewail misfortunes that were past 
remedy. The only alternative seemed to be, to get the vessel 
back upon the other tack, and await the more regular forming 
of the sea. To men emboldened by peril, decision is but 
action. Accordingly she was changed. 

The vessel now labored in less peril. As mental commo- 
tion subsided, the gnawings of hunger began to be felt. With 
the more veteran of the crew, this inexorable demand of Na- 


IN PERIL. 


95 


ture actually became clamorous. And well this might be, 
since they had tasted nothing to stay appetite for twenty- 
four hours. After due search, the most that could be mus- 
tered, was a junk of raw fat pork, and a remnant of corn and 
rye bread, that had shared the general fate of being duly 
soaked in the briny water, with which they had been of late 
so copiously visited. 

A few of the less dainty munched of this repast, to appease 
the keenness of appetite. But to Walter such extremity but 
deepened the cloud of his feelings, by recalling pictures of 
starvation at sea. 

As soon as it was deemed safe, the tack of the vessel was 
again changed. She now lay in tolerable safety; but the 
night was confessedly the most trying one ever experienced 
by the crew. The Pink continued to ship water frightfully. 
In spite of the repeated working of the pumps, the water at 
times gained over the cabin-floor most alarmingly. The cord- 
age and sails, neither new nor strong, and so long exposed to 
the strain of the elements, were continually giving way at 
some point. Thus all hands had often to be called, and as 
often to receive a drenching from the spiteful spray. 

To be roused smoking with warmth from one’s cot, into the 
chilly air, just as his eyes begin to be wearisome with sleep, 
is not the most agreeable. 

Their woollen clothing soaked in brine, chafed their skin 
to pimple soreness. Indeed their suffering, mental and physi- 
cal, rose to its culmination. They passed through that intense 
period, when the sensibilities are most lively, and the tenacity 
of life the strongest. Later, the nerves become dulled, and 
the hold upon life weakened. This, however, is but the 
kindly hand of Nature, soothing the journey to another life. 

As to Walter, the heavings of his spirit were little less 
tumultuous than the tempest-tossed ocean. The din of the 


96 


THE FISHER BOY. 


jarring elements, instead of paralyzing his sensibilities, 
aroused his faculties to intense liveliness. He was up at 
every turn-out, active with the rest, although his inexperi- 
ence did not permit him to afford that aid which his will- 
ing breast prompted. 

But the sullen night at length wore away, as if turning 
upon the hinges of despair ; and when benignant morn was 
heralded in the east, it lifted a cloud from every soul. 

The gale rose to its height about midnight ; after which the 
lulls grew longer, while the gusts became less fierce. Late in 
the afternoon, the wind had moderated to a stiff, whole sail 
breeze. But as the sea still ran dangerously high, the time 
was employed in repairing as best could be, the damaged sails 
and rigging. In the afternoon, the wind having, got to the 
south-west, all canvas was thrown to the breeze, and the ves- 
sel’s bow turned joyfully toward land. 

The decks were soon strown with wet clothes, and, as the 
gale moderated, the sea went down like a spent horse. The 
cook now called out supper. All hearts bounded with grate- 
ful joy, forgetting in the glow of the present, the miseries of 
of the past. Such is life upon th© ocean-wave ! 


CHAPTER VIL 


‘‘ Oh ! what can sanctify the joys of home, 

Like hope’s gay glance from ocean’s troubled foam.” 

Byron. 

“Prize O,” ejaculated Fishall, bounding with excitement. 

“ Where away,” shouted several voices, while as many of 
the crew rushed around the alert fisherman, straining their 
eyes in quest of the descried object. 

“ Dead whale, by jingo, believe so, faith ; lucky dogs, ain’t 
we, a voyage right here in the beginning. Skipper, shall we 
throw out the boat?” hurriedly exclaimed Fishall, almost 
breathless with interest, and absolutely deaf to the incoherent 
voices of the crew. 

“ Better wait, and see if ’taint a mermaid,” drawled Loggy, 
with a droll leer. “ Youngsters’ eyes are apt to magnify, 
’specially in the filmy morning.” 

Curiosity was aglow. Each took his turn at guessing out 
the unknown object. But the vessel coming up with it, re- 
vealed the truth. It proved a five-handed fish-boat, drifting 
bottom up, at the mercy of winds and waves. The spectacle 
was a sad one ; for it was probably but the emblem of death. 
Its crew must have been lost in the gale. Still, it must be 
confessed that the commiseration felt for the untimely fate of 
perished fellow mortals, was partially overridden by the near 
prospect of gain. How deplorable that the noble sentiments 
of humanity should ever be sullied by the greed of getting. 

The sea had calmed down to a rippling mirror. The ves- 
sel was now gliding gently through the yielding water, raising 

9 ( 97 ) 


98 


THE FISHER BOY. 


a modest wave at the fore-foot, which tumbled ove; in foam, 
under the lee, but at windward pencilled along in p. gentle 
ripple as far as the main-chains, where it turned off in a beau- 
tiful angle, still travelling with the vessel, as if reluctan* tc- 
part her company. 

Chatham lights plumed up ahead, a two fold gift of wel 
come and warning to the mariner ; while across the narrov? 
beach, the main-land mellowed in dim outline. The swee/ 
sight awakened irrepressible emotions of gladness in the 
breast of Walter. It was the visible link in the golden chain 
of home ; and the sentiment was rendered more tender by the 
mellowing halo of distance and suffering. 

This feeling arose to rapture by the appearance of some 
vessels which, having rounded the tiny point, were spreading 
their snowy canvas to the auspicious gale, and winging their 
blithesome way over the proudly swelling wave, directly 
across the fore-foot of the Pink. 

These bright links of association brought home to his 
breast, with an ecstatic thrill, the golden picture of childhood. 
Indeed, they were the eye-touch of return ; the hand-grasp 
after painful absence. 

As they approached, several market smacks appeared 
snuggled within the bars, and the men looked active at their 
lines. This, and the tide having just made ahead for going 
over the Shoals, it was agreed to tarry a few hours as well, if 
but to make a catch to take home fresh. 

Accordingly, the cables were bent, and the little vagabond 
of a Pink came to for a trial. The crafts were thrown with 
flushed hopes for brisk sport at catching. 

But either from over daintiness, on the' part of the little 
autocrats below, or for some other equally cogent reason, not 
a bite perched upon their ill-starred fortune for a long tedious 
hour. A consultation was held, and in the hustle of opinion, 


PROSPECT OF A GALE. 


^9 


it came uppermost that fresh bait must be the desio . atum. 
A boat was despatched for some at a neighboring vessel. It 
soon returned with partial success. Still with this, there was 
no biting. It now became evident that they were not over 
favorable ground, but rather than change the vessel, they 
availed of the happy suggestion of manning the prize-boat for 
a trial excursion. The opinion proved correct, for no sooner 
had the boat anchored near the bars, than the biting com- 
menced, and continued steadily through the day. 

Toward night, the wind, which had fallen to a ealm, sprung 
up from the north-east, continually freshening. At the same 
time, a heavy cloud-bank was seen lying around the western 
horizon, and appearances seemed to bode another gale. 

“ Breeding another storm,” muttered Loggy, after many an 
ominous glance over the water and around the horizon. 
“ Seeond part of the same tune, I’ll warrant,” he added, with 
growing boldness. “ Better get over the shoals ’fore night, 
hadn’t we, skipper — catching season, this. For one, I 
shouldn’t like another such a brush.” 

The skipper falling in with the opinion of Loggy, the an- 
chor was weighed, and after making signals to the boat, they 
squared away toward the point. 

Tlie movement was noticed on board the boat ; but the bit- 
ing being brisker than ever, Fishall, who swayed a tacit com- 
mand, was too absorbed in the catch, to heed the call at the 
moment. Indeed, a kind of illusive enthusiasm seemed to 
throw a binding spell around every one ; and, as one fish after 
another came over the side, light fingered sport managed to 
wheedle them of the fleeting moments, until the vessel liad 
faded in the distance, and the sun was fast sinking below the 
threatening cloud rising in the west. 

What had best now be done ? To essay overtaking the 
vessel were idle. Doubling the point alone would lock them 


100 


THE FISHER BOY. 


fast in the arms of night, and expose them to incalculable 
perils ; especially should the sudden lowering storm in the 
sky open its bowels of fury at an early hour. 

“ I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Fishall, brightening with 
the sheen of heroism, “We’ll cross the bars.” This was 
received by the rest with a look of doubt, but no one ventured 
a reply. Marl threw a significant glance at the line of break- 
ers, just then combing near them, as if in defiance ; but the old 
salt carried too much of the daring in his spirit to be out- 
braved by a mere fisherman. 

Fishall was not, by nature, overstocked with pluck. But in 
this instance, the energy aroused by the novelty of power, and 
the enthusiasm fired by a good catch, had, for once, awakened 
something corresponding to heroism in his breast. Possibly 
the gladdening view of home added its infiuence. 

Chatham bars are a congeries of hidden sand-bars, com- 
mencing somewhere off the middle of Cape Monomoy, run- 
ning parallel with the shore, and reaching to Chatham lights. 
Exposed to the full rake of the Atlantic, the waves break 
upon them with fearful cresting, especially amid a gale, and 
even after its force is spent. Their dirge-like roar may be 
heard of a still evening for miles in the inhind. 

Walter himself had often listened in childish wonder to 
their wailing lullaby, not dreaming that it was to be one day 
his lot, to cross them in an open boat. Thus short is our ken 
of the future ! 

Mariners hold a mental dread of these sand-bars, as of all 
others in their neighborhood, and to seamen not familiar by 
experience with their relative position, their very name brings 
dismay to the stoutest heart. Hence, vessels never fail of 
doing them the homage of a wide berth. Their not being 
well known, may account somewhat for the awe that envelops 
them ; since acquaintance with danger tends to ameliorate the 


f 


CROSSING THE BARS. 


101 


sentiment of terror, which danger at a distance rarely fails to 
beget. But let that be as it may, a certain mysterious awe 
continues to hang around these remorseless death-beacons ! 
Even Fishall, whose youth had been spent in boat-fishing, 
and who was as familiar with every nook of coast thereabouts, 
as the finny tribes that periodically scour its sandy shores, had 
never ventured across Chatham bars. That he should have 
the boldness to do it now, might seem inexplicable, save by 
remembering that a bold rashness sometimes springs up in a 
timid soul, as the wildest tornadoes not unfrequently break 
forth* amid regions the most placid. 

Well, if cross they must, there was no time to lose in mere 
hesitancy. Accordingly Fishall unshipped the rudder and 
rove a long oar through a strong becket in the stern sheets. 
This was done to give him a mastery over the direction of the 
boat. The thole pins were at the same time examined, and 
where necessary, new ones substituted. All being ready, four 
oars were thrown out, spreading their blades like a double 
row of fins to the fleet dolphin. 

The boat glided swiftly on. Still the men plied their oars 
gingerly, husbanding their strength for the moment of need. 
Reaching the vdtge of the outermost bar, the men lay on 
their oars a few "moments, awaiting a smooth time. To Marl, 
as the post of honor, had been assigned the aftermost oar. 
But Walter being deemed a useless appendage, where only 
sinew hands could be useful, lay coiled up under the bow, in 
a State of intense anxiety. 

“ Give way now, boys,” breathed Fishall, gripping and hug- 
ging with energy the steering oar, his 'eyes at the same time 
fixed with solicitous intent upon the spot of 'the most danger- 
ous wave. The men wielded with nervous vigor. The boat 
flew over the fevered waves as if a conscious being. Happily, 
the bar remained comparatively smooth, and, as the trembling 

9 * 


102 


THE FISHER BOY. 


boat neared tbe innermost verge of the shoal, a load of anx- 
iety was removed from every breast. Each heart swelled 
with gratitude at so quiet and safe transit. But suddenly, as 
if touched with the wand of magic, a mountain wave gathered 
just astern, and came down upon them roaring and bristling 
like a rabid animal. Walter’s heart quivered in his throat. 
The rowers peaked their oars a cock-bill, and laid graspingly 
hold of the thwarts. Fishall’s eyes rolled in frenzied trepida- 
tion. Bracing firmly his feet, and renewing his gripping em- 
brace with the steering oar, he awaited the result. It seemed 
that the fierce towering billow must submerge them beneath 
its emerald breast. Escape looked hopeless. But the fragile 
barque managed to mount the foamy crest, when, locked in 
firm embrace, the two sped on together, like delirious lovers. 
Indeed, the speed of the boat was so intense, as to thrill every 
nerve to the fingers’ ends. As the waves caused by the velo- 
city of the boat were thrown up on either side, at the gun- 
wales, it created the sublime illusion of riding post haste to 
the very bottom of the deep. This intense emotion, was, 
however, but momentary ; for the wave disdaining the union, 
soon outstripped the boat, and before another sea could be 
formed, she was within the shoal and out of danger. All now 
took a long breath. 

The inner bar was yet to be crossed. This was less for- 
midable than the outer one, yet it looked sufficiently appalling 
to keep alive the sentiment that had been awakened within 
them. They paused a moment to contemplate the peril of a 
second trial. At a favorable moment that they had been 
waiting for, Fishall again gave the word to pull away. Li a 
moment, the boat was dancing among the trembling breakers. 
It proved rougher here than upon the outer bar. still they 
were about to achieve the feat nobly, when suddenly the boat 
struck her stem against the rib of an old hulk iml^ded in 


OVERBOARD. 


103 


the sand. The unexpected concussion sent an electric thrill 
through every bosom. They sprang up, and reversed theii 
oars with a view to shove off, but a rolling wave coming up 
behind, struck the stern, capsized the boat, and precipitated 
all hands overboard among the angry waves. 

W alter struck the water in a state of utter bewilderment — ■ 
a gleam of terror, a convulsive tliroe, a sinking down, down, 
the green waters receding from his filmy vision, like depart- 
ing phantoms, a distressed oppression like a hand of lead, 
pressing upon his vitals, a waning consciousness, and a vague 
feeling that all was over — these' were, at least, the dim sensa- 
tions he could afterwards recall. 

Rising to the surface by mere reaction, and instinctively 
grasping by good fortune a drifting oar, he was enabled to 
keep from again sinking. The first object that struck his 
conscious gaze, was the blessed vision of old Marl, whose head 
was bobbing among the breakers, looking like Hope cast amid 
the whirlpools of life. The keen sighted sailor had already 
caught a glimpse of the boy, and was bearing down for him 
with all the energy of a generous purpose. With an arm 
nerved by the force of humanity, he placed the boy upon the 
boat, and then carelessly struck off himself for the shore. 
Having reached it, he found the rest of the crew happily es- 
caped from the treacherous element, into which they had been 
so summarily thrown, and giving heart-felt thanks in rough, 
but honest accents, for their hair-breadth deliverance.- 

The wrecked boat having drifted into the surf, Walter, 
half lifeless with exhaustion, crawled up the beach, and joined 
the rest. 

By one of those felicitous threads in the web of chance, an- 
other boat’s crew were upon the beach. They had come for 
a sojourn of a few days, for gunning, eeling, quahauging, and 
such like staple sports ; and were, in consequence, well sup- 


104 


THE FISHER BOY. 


plied with comforts. On seeing the capsize, their manly sym- 
pathies could not but be aroused to the highest pitch, and they 
came bounding up in breathless haste, to proffer their fullest 
aid. 

Fortunately, one found upon his person a supplied tinder 
box, flint and steel. With these, a fire was struck up under 
a hillock, and kept glowingly alive by means of dried grass 
and drift wood strewed plentifully around. 

Another ran, and with alacrity of heart, brought them cold 
victuals. Thus refreshed, and warmed by the crackling 
flames, they began to feel like new men. Walter especially 
experienced a sense of renovation, that seemed to him like a 
new birth. He would not have believed himself susceptible 
of so delicious animation. It imparted the most exquisite 
elasticity to his feelings. Indeed, he would have been willing 
to pass through the same perils again, if only to taste the 
sweet glow of gladdening comfort, that was suffusing his sys- 
tem. 

Flagging nature at length restored, the ill-starred fishermen 
began buckling up their spirits, in order to start anew for 
home. The other boat’s crew freely tendered them such hos- 
pitality *as they had to offer, — a night’s lodging with them 
under their own boat that lay a little way off, turned over and 
banked up with sea-weed and sand, — not so dainty a sleep- 
ing apartment, they admitted, as might be found in the world, 
yet to the crystal conscience, and weary bodies, of rough, hon- 
est fishermen, as inviting of sleep, as the softest, silk-canopied 
couch, might be to the delicate attenuated limbs of the sur- 
feited wretch. ^ 

But our home-bound fishermen were in no wise disposed to 
accept this frank hospitality. The little adventure of upset- 
ting was after all but a mere jostle in the road of their jour- 
ney. It seemed to have emboldened their natures, instead of 


A COLD BATH. 


105 


making them more timorous. They were besides desirous of 
intercepting the Pink before she crossed the bay. 

So resolutely they mustered forward. But between the in- 
ception of a resolution, and the goal of achievement, there not 
unfrequently lies in the way many a knotty obstacle, over- 
looked in the hasty mental grasp of the route. 

In making ready to .start, they found that in the upsetting 
of the boat, much of her equipment had been lost. They were, 
however, promptly relieved from this embarrassment by the 
untiring kindness of the other boat’s crew. But amid the 
pale of the surrounding darkness, first to strike unerringly the 
mouth of the channel, then to keep the devious depth through 
the wide waters across the beach, nearly filled with sand-flats, 
and quagmires of decayed sea-weed, was such as to tax to the 
utmost their keenest sagacity. 

Necessity is the mother of invention. By towing along the 
shore to the mouth of the passage, then cautiously setting the 
boat ahead with oars, — all the time groping their way like 
blind men in a strange garret, — they succeeded at length, to 
gain the entrance way to the channel. 

Then came a knot of troublesome vicissitudes, — such as 
grazing upon this shallow, floundering over that, sticking fast 
upon another, — then pushing the boat backward, side-wise, 
around, forward, — but all to little purpose. 

At length, a good deal puzzled, they resolved upon a more 
summary and efficient procedure. 

Plunge, dropped overboard one man, sending up a shudder- 
ing wail at the effect of the cold bath upon his nerves, a wail 
that made the darkness more hideous. Plunge, followed an- 
other, giving in turn a plaintive squeal, at experiencing a sim- 
ilar sensation to that of his daring predecessor. Then plunge, 
plunge they dropped into the water, like leads over the side 
of a fishing-vessel. 


lOG 


THE FISHER BOY. 


“ Cold pig, this,” muttered Marl, drawing in his breath, with 
a groan, as he crawled over the side of the boat, taking care 
to find a firm resting-place for one foot, before removing the 
other knee from the gunwale. I’d sooner be lashing on a jib- 
boom in the teeth of a screaming Nor-Easter, with the ther- 
mometer at zero, than trudging and shivering along in this 
slough of despond.” 

“ Only a touch of the wet blanket,” chattered Fishall. The 
rest were silent. They had no feeling just then for pleas- 
antry ; and they thought, besides, their present predicament 
no joke. 

Meanwhile Walter, who, thanks to the generous care of old 
Marl, had lain under the bow snugly tucked up in an old pea- 
jacket, was aroused from his dozing, by the splashing of the 
crew along side. Though of a gentle spirit, he was not one to 
hesitate sharing the hardship of suffering companions. With 
a feeling of sympathetic gladness, he boldly jumped over into 
the water with the rest. 

The progress of the boat was now more sure, although not 
devoid of vicissitude. Using their feet for sounding lead, and ’ 
their sinew arms for propellers, they floundered along through 
the obscure channel ; now settling to the arm-pits in water, 
and again sinking to the knees in a quagmire of decayed sea- 
weed, until at length, they felt the joyous relief of deepening 
off into the clear waters and firm shelving bottom of the 
bay. 

Their success was achieved by meeting with a brave judg- 
ment the inevitable obstacles of their path-way. Their 
course was emblematic of a gallant spirit, bearing on steadily 
amid the muddy channels and devious currents of life. 

The other boat’s crew that had stuck to them like fast 
friends in adversity, now modestly took their leave. This 
was done in a simple and quiet way. Indeed, there seemed 


UNPLEASANT PROSPECT. 


107 


no desire for display on either side. The others acted as 
if conscious of having merely done their duty, without car- 
ing to thrust a sense of obligation upon their beneficiaries. 
These latter as content to preserve the memory of a rich 
favor, and let its spiritual fragrance ennoble their own life for 
good. 

Beautiful, indeed, is the rainbow form of politeness, but 
sweeter by far is the endeared act of kindness, flowing from 
the unaffected pulsations of a generous heart. 

Although they had threaded the tortuous entrance of the 
bay, yet all vexatious obstacles were not yet surmounted. 
The night seemed of an Egyptian darkness. No moon hung 
like a silvery lamp in the sky. Not a star could peep 
through the black cloud enshrouding the heavens. The very 
spirit of darkness seemed brooding over the deep, settling 
gently upon the broad bosom of ocean, as with raven wings. 
Indeed, the imagination could be reminded of a night before 
creation. 

The wind began to freshen. Appearances boded a speedy 
onset of the threatening storm. That it might overtake them 
before achieving the passage, was but a reasonable apprehen- 
sion. It should be borne in mind, that their clothing was sat- 
urated with salt water, their skin chafed to soreness, and them- 
selves drooping with fatigue and exhaustion. 

This appalling prospect, added to a shivering numbness 
from sudden inaction, that was fast creeping over them ; — 
along with a certain gloomy dejection, which a raw east wind 
is wont to work upon the nerves, were circumstances keenly 
disheartening. Moreover, there was no light nor compass in 
the boat to steer by; and, although Fancy conjured up no 
rocks under the lee, to inspire terror, yet to see the boat foun- 
der by shipping an unlucky sea, to get swamped in crossing 
the bar, or to strike the main-land wide of the mark, and foun- 


108 


TnE FISHER BOY. 


der in the surf, were circumstances not particularly soothing 
to the mind, already dejected by exposure. 

But men well inured in the warfare of life, are wont to be 
not easily discouraged. Their every day grapplings with 
sturdy nature, leave a fortitude and trepidation of character, 
that blinks not at difficulties. Such spirits anticipate in ad- 
vance, the giant Danger, and coolly prepare for the onset. 
They are thus not easily overcome by his wily surprises. 
Their genius rises with the wave of emergency, instead of be- 
ing overcome by it. 

Moreover, in the intense excitement that accompanies situ- 
ations of great peril, the soul haj)pily falls unconsciously into 
an illusion. It is for the moment blind to the impending dan- 
ger. And it is only when the trial has been passed, and is 
reviewed by the calm eye of retrospect, that the danger of the 
scene rises before the mind in its due proportion. 

But striking random bearings of Monomoy' and Chatham 
lights, which were sharply glimmering through the murky air, 
and shaping their course by judgment, that magnet of the 
soul, to which experience in life imparts greater trueness of 
touch, they awaited results, as men who had done what might 
be in the path of duty. 

The threatening breeze did not, however, as it was feared, 
swell into a furious gale. It rather subsided to a hectic 
breath, which came creeping over the waters, like the feeble 
respiration of a consumptive man. 

The boat under a single sail could only grope her way lan- 
guidly. The weary hours lingered behind with sullen gloom. 
Talk, that swift winged messenger of Time, halted. 

At length it was felt, they must be nearly over the bay. 
In truth, their strained vision drew forth from the shadowy 
realms of darkness, the. dim outline of land. The sudden and 
marvellous effect the sight had upon the crew, filled Walter 


FALLING IN WITH THE FINK. 


109 


with uncontrollable curiosity. Indeed, the very word “ land^^ 
seemed a fairy wand, whose magic touch dissolved the fetters 
of the soul, restoring it to the joy of freedom. 

As the older fishermen, each garrulous as half tipsy 
black-birds, were in a glee of excitement, guessing out 
the precise whereabouts of the boat, Walter still remained 
snugly rolled up under the bow, yet hardly willing to leave 
his warm, cosy retreat. As his eyes wandered thoughtfully 
amid the blank darkness, suddenly they chanced to fall 
upon something, that sent a startling thrill through his whole 
frame. 

It was a crescent of white foam just on the weather 
bow. lie was at first struck with the belief of its being a 
breaker, a phenomenon to which he had become painfully 
sensitive. Bounding from his covert, he gave the alarm 
with a shriek that shot like an arrow through every breast. 
All eyes darted instantaneously toward the spot indicated 
by the boy, and remained transfixed there in a wild, con- 
vulsive stare. But this sight proved but the prelude to a 
more gigantic apparition, for while standing petrified in 
amazement, there slowly emerged from the folds of the 
darkness, like a resurrection, a grizzly bulk, surmounted by 
an irregularly shaped phantom, which to their excited imagi- 
nation, seemed the evil genius of night flapping his broad 
wings to destroy. 

The crew catching the sight, sent up in turn, a simultane- 
ous shout, so piercing as to make the darkness quake. It 
rolled back to the mysterious object like a deep anthem. The 
huge spectre at once slowly changed its direction, and was 
moving past them, when “halloa,” shouted Fishall, — “the 
Pink, by jingo ; lucky dogs, ain’t we ; after all, a miss is as 
good as a mile. Halloa, there,” he repeated, “ send us a rope, 
— a rope, I say.” 


10 


110 


THE FISHER BOY. 


The familiar voice of Fishall was instantly seized by 
the quick ear of the skipper. A rope was sent with a 
gladdening impetus, and, in a twinkling, the boat’s crew had 
scrambled over the side of the vessel, and were on board. 
Mutual congratulations were exchanged; then followed the 
breathless narrations of their hair-breadth escapes and other 
vicissitudes. 

As for Walter, he felt an ecstasy of gratitude to be again 
on board of the Pink. He would not have believed the ves- 
sel so endeared to him. She seemed the warm genial hearth- 
stone of home after absence ; and when he recalled the peril- 
lous scenes through which he had passed, he paced the deck 
in transport. 

The skipper having a compass to steer by, might well pre- 
sume on greater accuracy of reckoning than Fishall. Accord- 
ingly, the identity of the boat was merged into that of the 
larger craft. 

The presumption soon broke forth into reality ; for their 
exploring eyes now caught sight of a flickering light just 
ahead. It turned out to be on board of another fishing craft 
which was just rounding to for anchor, in the time honored 
anchorage, called the Deep Hole. 

Guided by it, they felt their way along to a snug berth at 
anchor near the shore. 

“Shall we heave out the boat, or go ashore in the 
prize-boat alongside,” demanded Fishall of the skipper. 
The latter was too far in another part of the vessel to 
hear. 

“ Go ashore now, whew,” interrupted Marl. “ You’re in a 
mighty hurry to see Mamma and Bess. Why, at this time 
of night, you’d be prowling over the old fields, awaking up 
all the roosters and barking dogs, far and near. Whereas, a 
couple of hours’d give you daylight to make your welcome 


GOING ON SHORE. 


Ill 


bow in. What chowder-heads these women folks make of 
you.” 

This bit of raillery from the Salt, fell like a snow-flake 
upon the bosom of the thirsty ocean. It did not elicit even a 
note of reply. Each seemed too intently absorbed for that, in 
the fulfilment of what was nearest his heart, — namely, get- 
ting home. 

It may be safely asserted that the heart beats as warm- 
ly under a fisherman’s jacket, as beneath the richest fus- 
tian. 

Indeed, a simple life, while -it keeps pure the native emo- 
tions, greatly increases their force, by bearing them onward in 
a few well defined channels. 

Ere long, they pushed blithely off, from the vessel toward 
the shore. The boat now cleft the water more fleetly, 
than when taking them on board for the voyage. And 
altogether natural was this, for a different motive lay at 
the spring of their movement. 

Now the boat touches the shore ; they jump to land with 
bounding feet. She is drawn up with a will, — her keel 
barely touching the sand ; and turned over with a whirl that 
would have graced a circus-rider. 

But for Marl’s unbending habit of care, the oars even 
would hardly have got snugly put away. 

On they trudged with quickened step, the eye of Fancy 
fixed upon the dear hearth-stone rising before them in the 
sweet mirage of anticipation. 

As for Walter, he felt like a new being, so marvellous had 
been the transformation in his entire consciousness. The 
chill air of ocean, softened to an aromatic gale, sighed mellif- 
luous through the murmuring pine-tops, and its mild touch 
seemed like the soft gentle hand of woman. 

It soothed the excitement of his feelings, and awakened 


112 


THE FISHER BOY. 


emotions of joy and love, that ran through his frame in hal- 
cyon currents. 

At length, the dear, venerable mansion stood out before 
them, dimly in the mellow gray of night. Here the crew 
separated from Walter, each for his own home, — ever the 
sweetest spot of earth, but to the fisherman, the one single 
magnet of his affections. If, for the lowly, there be fewer 
objects to claim the homage of the heart, toward these the 
fires of love burn with a clearer, ruddier glow. 

Walter stood a moment before the scene, distracted by the 
novelty of his emotions. Familiar, yet how strange every- 
thing struck his sense. It was the same beloved homestead 
of his youth. Yet to his mental vision how different from the 
one parted with but a little while before. In truth, a deep 
and intense experience had given a new lens to the eye of his 
soul. Besides, that longing for home, which during his ab- 
sence, had given polarity to his every thought, was now 
strange enough to himself, felt no more. It was followed 
even by a sensible indifference toward the desired object, 
along with an odd perception of mind, not unlike that which 
comes from suddenly being rid of a long worn habit. 

Strange anomaly of the soul, that seems even for the mo- 
ment to lose the sense of enjoyment, when just on the boun- 
dary of possession. Is it that the swell of emotion forces the 
feelings to dead inanity, or that the wave of desire recedes 
to leave a cleaner breach for the mighty swell of the comino- 
billow ? 

But he reaches the quaint portico, and lays his hand upon 
the massive brass handle of the door. This he had scarcely 
rattled a second time, before the responsive portal cautiously 
opened. Behold the transcendent form of his mother ! Ec- 
static moment! The bounding gushes of sympathy over 
leaped the flood-gates of his soul. 


AT HOME. 


113 


“ Walter,” “ Mother,” were all that utterance could vent ; 
and they were instantly locked in each other’s arms. 

What more graceful, more noble, than filial aifection ! 
What deeper, purer, more angelic, than a mother’s love ! 


CHAPTER Vin. 


“Maternal love ! thou word that seems all bliss, 

Gives and receives all bliss ; — fullest when most 
Thou givest ! spring-head of all felicity, 

Deepest when most is drawn ! emblem of God ! 

Overflowing most when greatest numbers drink.” 

Pollock. 

When Walter awoke, the morning sun was streaming in 
brightly through the eastern windows of his narrow bed-room. 
The threatening storm had not vented its spite. Indeed, the 
puny demonstration proved to be only a little foible of Na- 
ture ; for as if suddenly repenting itself, the vacillating wind 
hitched back to the south-west, the black clouds hurried away, 
and the sky put on again its wonted smile of serenity. 

His first impression on opening the eyes, was of being still 
on board of the Pink, tossing upon the restless sea. But the 
comfortable neatness of his room, the golden sunshine flooding 
it, the soft tread of his mother, preparing the breakfast, and 
the genial crackling of the flames in the adjoining apartment, 
dissipated the illusion, and created sensations so delicious, 
that in a feeling of dreamy repose, he turned languidly upon 
his pillow for the luxury of a second nap. 

“ Ah, my son,” sighed Mrs. Carl, as the boy finished relat- 
ing the more startling incidents of the trip, “I hope the dan- 
gers and hardships you have passed through, will strike you 
with a dread of the sea ; and that I shall be spared the an- 
guish of another parting.” 

The boy made no reply. He had not the courage to de- 

( 114 ) 


HOME SCENES. 


115 


stroy the illusive hope of his mother. Yet little did she im- 
agine the mysterious workings within the breast of her son. 
The grim trials of his voyage instead* of weaning him from 
the sea, had aroused the latent energies of his nature, and im- 
parted a heroic complexion to his feelings ; and, as the neigh- 
bors crowded around him with an air of intense sympathetic 
curiosity, to listen to his witching narratives, he was conscious 
of a glow of animation, that cast into oblivion the sufferings 
he had experienced, and made him more resolute than ever, 
for a “ life upon the ocean-wave.” 

The sun was blazing high over the pine-tops, before the 
skipper made his appearance. As an act of courtesy to Mrs. 
Carl, he had called on his way to the shore, for Walter to join 
them in boarding the Pink. The severe brushing the little 
craft had encountered, rendered certain repairs indispensable, 
before it were safe to venture again upon the treacherous ele- 
ment. 

This would bring a delay. Mrs. Carl seized the propitious 
circumstance to secure the interval for her son to remain with 
her at home. To this end, she wrestled so earnestly, and with 
such a tone of success, that the skipper yielded, though in so 
doing, he subjected himself to the fault-finding of the crew. 

The boy was now free for a holiday stroll among scenes 
and acquaintances of his home. He could not but enjoy the 
furlough prodigiously. So long had he been tied up to the 
narrow tossings of a sea-life, that he now felt his expansive 
freedom, as does the wing of an uncaged bird. The wood- 
land air mellowed upon his sense, in soft contrast from the 
raw breeze of the sea. The picturesque surroundings of the 
Mansion, had become dwarfed a little, it is true, in com- 
parison with the illimitable ken of old Ocean, but they fell 
upon the soul with a charm as sweet as the fragrant violet of 
his native grove. 


116 


THE FISHER BOY. 


He was conscious moreover of a larger power of life. The 
germinating seeds of his faculties, quickened by intense expe- 
rience, had burst through the clay of his being, and were snif- 
fing the radiance of heaven. Nature wore a brighter, a more 
animating hue. A freshness of spirit gladdened his breast, 
and gave suppleness to his limbs. Life had for him a new 
charm. 

The neighbors greeted him, too, in a style very different 
from their wont. He was no longer to them the insignificant, 
though amiable youth of past days. He had received a touch, 
as they termed it, of real life ; and this bound him in a chord 
of sympathy with themselves. More even than this. He had 
gone through passages of peril, that had not happened even in 
their own varied experience, — sublime scenes known to them 
only through the eye of fancy. This embalmed him in their 
eyes with the heroic ; and the tone and gesture — the elo- 
quence of the illiterate — with which they addressed him, 
aroused to the verge of enthusiasm, the self-gratulation al- 
ready throbbing his breast. 

Then he had risen in social consequence marvellously 
among his youthful companions. He had been lifted to an 
undisputed elevation. He could now look down upon them 
from a position positively earned. This unfolded superiority 
might be likened to a beautiful flower that bursts into bloom 
in a single night, eclipsing surrounding shrubs. 

Then what charm had gained the society of his female ac- 
quaintances ! As he circulated among them, their gentle 
forms seemed to have caught new grace, their vivacious souls 
brighter sparks of ethereal fire. This was, however, but an 
illusion, — doubtless, one of those complacent arts of nature, 
to beguile to a happier state of mind, — but still a deception. 
It was but an image, mirrored from the golden rays of the 
boy’s own imagination. 


NEW EMOTIONS. 


117 


Still, their manner was obviously changed. There was a 
certain maidenly coyness which he had never before observed. 
This struck him oddly, while it but heightened the charm of 
his agreeable emotions. These blushing beauties fell upon 
his artless nature, like the magic brush, that touches with 
lively hues the beaming picture. 

To a cursory observer, such tender graces might have been 
construed into that mysterious sympathy of the human heart, 
that will blush at its purest feelings, and elude the object it 
most tenderly desires. 

But such was not the case. Their sweet deference did not 
spring from any seductive sentiment the boy was uncon- 
sciously weaving around them. It issued from a nobler 
source. It was that beautiful homage, the heart of woman in- 
stinctively yields to the heroic in man, that Desdemona inspi- 
ration that is thralled by noble daring, and manly energy. 
For we find that the zenith beauty of woman, is perceived 
only in contrast with her co-equal, man, as the grandeur of 
man is heightened when beaming in the azure heaven of 
woman. Thus tlie more pure, delicate, and gentle her nature, 
the more earnestly she seeks a manly trunk around which to 
wind her gentle tendrils. That is, as the shores of their unit- 
ing natures widen, do the waters of their common soul-lake 
deepen. Let us then spurn the sentiment that would render 
woman, manish, and man womanish — would bridge the circle 
of whose circumference they make counterpart segments, — 
would merge into an impotent unit, what nature designed as a 
blessed duality. The towering mountain peak catches a rare 
significance of grandeur, when mirrored upon the bosom of 
the placid lake below. 

But this joyous state of mind did not continue long un- 
clouded. The golden stream of his feelings flowed not with- 
out alloy. Ere long other thoughts, a little dispiriting began 


118 


THE FISHER BOY. 


entwining amid tlie wreath of his sensations. We will see 
how this was. 

Two or three families in the settlement had gradually 
risen to comparative wealth, by shop-trading. The posses- 
sion of substance, and their natural connection with the city, 
had inflated them with a species of vanity which took to itself 
airs of social superiority. The heads of a few other families 
having ventured into the merchant service, had in due time 
meritoriously climbed to successful commandership. Their 
taste liberalized by voyaging abroad, very naturally showed 
itself in the erection and adornment of more pretentious 
homes. 

Worldly prosperity is apt to beguile the heart of its devotee 
into a feeling of superiority. It tends moreover to dazzle the 
eyes of the less fortunate into a feeling of envious admiration. 
And when wealth gained in a given pursuit seems to invest 
the possessor with superior address and intelligence, it never 
fails to turn the heads of the plodding poor, and make them 
restive under their own peculiar burden, in the dusty road of 
life. 

Now, these two classes — namely, the traders and the ship- 
captains, acquired an influence of opinion, and set an example 
of style, that quite upset the simple and homely notions pre- 
valent in the neighborhood. The result was to bring fishing 
into disrepute; and the calling had already begun to be 
looked upon as low and menial. Thus a branch of homely 
industry, which had been followed from time immemorial, 
bringing health, comfort, and contentment to most, and com- 
petence to not a few, became to be discarded. The quiet sat- 
isfaction of the past had departed, and a new era was follow- 
ing upon its heels. 

It may be here observed, that although Walter enjoyed a 
most enviable popularity, yet he was thought to be tinctured 


SELF-ESTEEM. 


119 


with one blemish. This was what was considered an unwar- 
rantable 'pride. He had ever been looked upon as a proud 
mortal, which was the more noticeable, as the circumstances 
of his life did not seem to justify on his part any such feel- 
ing. 

Claiming for our hero no immunity from the weakness 
common to humanity, we must admit of there being something 
in his composition to warrant the notion very generally enter- 
tained of his possessing an inordinate self-esteem. Having 
admitted this much, we must in fairness say further, that this 
defect, if such it could be called, did not spring so much from 
an egotistical nature, as from a combination of circumstances, 
beyond human control. But the eye of the public which is 
very keen sighted to note the failings of its members, is not 
always so sharp to trace the cause of any peculiarity. The 
spots upon the sun are observed with little trouble, but the 
reason for this phenomenon, has baffled the most astute phi- 
losophers. 

If the eccentricities of character could be looked at fully by 
the searching eye of truth, many an ungainly trait would be 
found to be simply superior worth forced from the channels 
of conventionalism. And if mankind were made to feel the 
touch of an IthurieFs Spear, many a fair-seeming, smoth- 
tongued being, would spring up a hideous monster. 

As for Walter, what was dwelt upon as an overweening 
pride, if not proof of excellence, was at least the result of cir- 
cumstances which he might not control. 

True, the boy was surrounded by penury. Discourage- 
ment like a dark cloud hung over his pathway. Still but a 
youth, he had as yet achieved nothing to swell him with lofty 
self-esteem. Yet a manly spirit pervaded his being ; noble 
aspirations crowded his breast. Then there was the inspira- 
tion of blood. He was related both on his maternal and pa- 


120 


THE FISHER BOY. 


ternal side to the most pretentious families of the settlement. 
Indeed, the best of the Puritan blood flowed in his veins ; and 
he could trace his descent direct to the May Flower, that an- 
chored in Cape Cod Harbor. Wliatever may be said to the 
contrary, there is something in the pride of ancestry, that ap- 
peals to the noblest instinct of our nature. 

Besides, his mother, by an overweening care, might have 
fanned within him the gales of self-love. At least, filial grat- 
itude inspired him to achieve something worthy of her ambi- 
tion, and deep toned affection. Then his anomalous situation 
related to the best families, yet not feeling free to associate 
with them on terms of equal footing, made him peculiarly 
sensitive to earn for himself a commanding position. 

However humble his condition, he yet felt burning within 
an earnest of victory in the battle of life. Visions of a lofty 
career were wont to flit before his mental eye. Fires burned 
in the depth of his soul, that lit up his imagination to a splen- 
dor, that threw the actuality of his humble lot into insignifi- 
cance. He would remain hours in day-dreamings, in which 
he was translated to other worlds, amid scenes more congenial 
to his panting spirit. These fairy regions were peopled with 
a race of a nature more consonant with his own unearthly 
spirit, — with a race actuated by motives that satisfied more 
fully the integrity of his crystal being. It was in one of these 
golden reveries, that we first saw him standing upon the turfy 
bridge, not far from the Old Mansion. 

Walter did not mingle so freely as was natural with his 
youthful companions. He appeared coy of their most animat- 
ing sports. A pensive reserve showed itself at all times in 
his manner. This was mistaken for a native haughtiness of 
feeling. But its roots sprang deeper. He could not endure 
the thoughtless obscenity that would occasionally break out 
among his playmates, like the sudden miring up of a crystal 


WOUNDED PRIDE. 


121 


stream. It shocked his fine sensibilities, and turned the most 
joyous sport into loathing. The seeming hard lot of his birth 
hung constantly around him, like a cloud against a morning’s 
horizon. It checked the current of youthful gleesomeness, 
and imprinted even a sedate hue to his youthful expression. 
And then there was the abstraction continually of the glorious 
visions of a golden future, ever rising before him to divert his 
mind from the present. 

Thus what was looked upon as peculiar in the boy, was but 
a tender, yet deep, spiritual energy, that while struggling 
amid the tangled path of his lot, was opening a vista into the 
realms of the future. 

What finer than youthful genius lit up by hues of heaven, 
casting its brightness without, to illumine its ascent up the 
lofty mount of Fame ! 

As we have before observed, amid the joyous greetings of 
his arrival home, twinges of mortification would now and then 
arise. In truth, his feelings had become somewhat tumultu- 
ous, now that the first wave of welcome had subsided. New 
flushed hope, that had given wings to his spirit for a fresh- 
ened life, could not prevent the sinking of his feelings to a 
state of bitter dejection. 

This abasement arose from contemplating how utterly he 
hpd compromised his future, by entering upon the despised 
pursuit of fishing. The pulse of liis being had beaten toward 
a higher life, not only to satisfy an inward craving for eleva- 
tion, but to wrest from his pathway the shadowing hand of 
penury, and to rise in the future to a social preeminence. 
But by yielding to the tender solicitude of his mother, he had 
sunk even deeper into the miry waters of an humble lot. 
This thought grew painful to him, especially so, as he re- 
flected how it must widen the social gulf between himself and 
certain distant relations, whose equality he desired to com- 
il 


122 


THE FISHER BOY. 


mand. The young females belonging to these, had shown 
toward him, as he fancied, a chilling reserve ; and this, as he 
further thought, because of the disparity in their social posi- 
tion. In this • the boy deceived himself. He looked at the 
subject through his perverted feelings. It was his own little 
world, and not the fixed sun that moved. Cooped up in a 
circle of narrow sympathies, they would gladly have wel- 
comed him to friendly intercourse ; even more, he might have 
won their intimate friendship ; for nothing is more disinter- 
ested than a young girl’s partialities. But he did not see it 
so. He continued nursing his wounded pride, cherishing the 
purpose of one day wringing from them a brilliant admira- 
tion. How often the susceptible soul preys upon the griefs 
of its own creation ! 

Before setting out from his youth-harbor, that is, fixing 
upon a calling, his career could not be divined. His future 
was hid by an impenetrable veil. He could retreat from the 
humility of his condition, behind the possibility of a future 
elevation. This buoyant anticipation sustained him. It ena- 
bled him to smother many a fancied sKght under the lurking 
resolution of springing some day to a glory that should dazzle 
with its brightness. 

But now he had set sails to his barque, had hoisted the col- 
ors of his calling. The voyage of his career lay disclosed to 
view, and oh how it falsified his taste and aspirations ! and 
what a wide remove he had taken from the social point 
whence he started. This it was that brought to his mind a - 
depth of abasement so profound, as to roll up a wave of de- 
jection, darkening the whole- vista of his life. But the gloom- 
iest hours have an end ; and if not blessings in disguise, like 
rainy days, they at least gladden the coming sunshine to our 
sense. 

At least, thus was it with Walter. This phantom of per- 


BRIGHTER HOPES. 


123 


verted sentiment gradually rolled off from his ridden spirit. 
Through the darkness that had shut down upon his horizon, 
there twinkled the beckoning star of Hope. Although com- 
promised to a calling held in low repute, by those whose opin- 
ions he most prized, there was yet left him this alternative : 
He might not wait for it inextricably to weave his fate, — 
to shackle the doom of his destiny. He need only make, it 
the first round in the ladder of his climbing ascent. He 
could shake off whatever dust odium might attach, like the 
Apostles of old. He would only remain till his fledged wings 
could take him to loftier flights. This thought breaking in 
upon his troubled spirit, like darting sunbeams through rented 
clouds, imparted a joyous spring to his ambition. 

It cleared up his dark vision, rolling back the clouds of de- 
spondency. Schemes congenial to his taste seized his imagi- 
nation, and buoyed him upon the pinions of Hope. As his 
mind become occupied with its communings, and stretched 
beyond the strata of earth, into the realms of Fancy, he was 
more reconciled to his present situation. This moving in a 
round of drudgery, with the mind in a spiritual sphere of ex- 
istence, is the life balm of those whose souls are leaping to 
some loftier round of existence. True, the restiveness of 
spirit it begets, brings little incense to the -shrine of Mammon, 
but it places a rainbow in the sky of life, that steadies the eye 
of Faith. The boy was thus distracted by a flow of novel 
feelings. Day, upon brilliant wings, had flown swiftly athwart 
the arch, and was now nestling in dreamy repose in the crim- 
son west. 

In obedience to a sentiment of filial homage, Walter now 
set out for his grandfather’s. He felt that another welcome 
was there in store for him. His feelings were buoyant at the 
consciousness of having risen in manly consequence, since 
parting with this venerable parent of his mother; and he 


124 


THE FISHER BOY. 


could not but set out with elastic step, at the thought of re- 
ceiving the benediction of one whose nature was in earnest 
sympathy with every form of honest struggling in life. Ac- 
cordingly, he sauntered thitherward, yielding to the gentle 
play of his emotions. 

The shades of night were fast gathering round, dimming off 
objects to sombre outline. He had but just crossed the tire- 
less brook, which was sending up its sweet plaints to the list- 
ful ear of eve, when he was startled by the appearance of a 
person on the left of the pathway near him. It was plainly a' 
female, and his impression was of its being some woman, very 
naturally on her way homeward from an afternoon’s visit. 
Hence, for the moment, he dismissed the figure from his mind ; 
but perceiving afterward, that it continued to keep the same 
relative position and distance from him, his curiosity was 
awakened, and he pressed on with a view to overtake it. But 
his quickened speed did not bring the expected approach. 
This struck him strangely, and he redoubled his pace, but not 
a whit did he seem to gain upon the moving apparition. In- 
deed, it was very like chasing one’s own shadow. Provoked 
as well as excited, at being so completely foiled, he let out his 
gait to increased strides. But it was all of no avail, the de- 
fiant elf still maintained its vantage ground. 

Walter was, by nature, sensitively timid, but the first par- 
oxysm of trepidation over, he was wont to wax bold, and 
gather a strength of resolution, that nothing could daunt. 
Determining to solve the mystery before him, he bounded 
forward, and ran with such speed, that the fence by his side 
spun backward like objects darting past a moving railroad car. 
But this was as futile as his previous efforts. There was still 
the unresolved wonder, fixed as if held in the wiles of Fate. 
Only now he thought he perceived a fine oscillation of move- 
ment, and a gliding forward, as if drawn by a magic wire. 


A SKETCH. 


125 


Housed now to fullest excitement, his frenzied enthusiasm 
lent wings to his speed, and he flew as it were over the 
ground. Reaching the skirts of the road, the evasive myth 
disappeared entirely. This, however, but gave fresh impulse 
to his movement, and a few quickened bounds brought him 
over the mill-dam, past the Washer Tree, up the steep winding 
Hill, until he arrived panting before the door of his grand- 
father. His speed was none the less accelerated, because of 
the momentary apprehension, that behind every passing 
shrub, the vanished unknown might dart forth, and clutch him 
to a fearful embrace. At the door he paused a few moments 
to take breath, and we will devote the interval in attempting 
a sketch. 

Walter’s grandfather was a man of few words, — a man of 
action, rather than expression. His firm set character had 
been moulded in the hardy school of experience, instead of 
fashioned by the amenities of conventional society. His influ- 
ence was felt rather in the deep energy of his life, than seen in 
the specious glitter of verbiage. He belonged to a class who 
move in obedience to an irrepressible inward spring, to which 
external pressure but adds vital force, rather than to those 
that are fanned along by the friendly gales of fortune. 

Beginning his career as ship-builder, he had hewn out his 
rough way with a resolute arm, and thoroughly set the 
gnarled timbers of his fortune. By dint of sagacity united to 
an untiring energy, he rose to be considered one of the most 
consequential men of the town, although a singular straight- 
forwardness of disposition, bordering upon obstinacy, had 
made him no favorite with the public. Throughout his toil- 
some ascent, he moiled his way quite alone ; for this aloof 
standing world, very wisely extends the hand of aid only 
when the favor is not needed. As there were none upon 
wbijh he could lean for prop, except such as were lured to 
11 * 


126 


THE FISHER BOY. 


him hj the sordid spell of gain, he might well be said to have 
been the architect of his fortune. This absolute dependence 
upon his own resources, joined to one of those sterling natures 
to which action engenders enthusiasm and success emboldens 
the faculties, could not but impart to him immense energy 
and self-reliance. But fortuitous circumstances contributed 
to solidify hugely these corner traits of character. 

Of four brothers, he was the only one of the family group 
that had thrived. The others withered and dwarfed, held but 
a precarious existence, and that only under the fostering 
shade of his own vigorous branches. They might be seen 
shivering in the air of want, with eyes forever upturned for 
aid. His wife was a woman of soft nature, but of lively sym- 
pathies, and of a disposition intensely humane and benevo- 
lent. In consequence, the current of her life flowed all natu- 
rally toward the relief of misery, and she was ever seeking 
occasions for open-handed bounty. To prevent the wasting 
of his fortune, there was imposed upon Mr. Walfinch, the 
hard necessity of checking within limits the stream of the 
good woman’s benevolence. This gave him the appearance 
of penuriousness, a trait which at the bottom he did not pos- 
sess. 

His four children came upon the horizon of life with rosy 
prospects, but by an inscrutable fate, their bright future soon 
blighted, they were sooner or later forced back upon their 
father in hopeless dependence. 

The bridal joy of the eldest daughter ere long after mar- 
riage, was turned into mourning ; and the widowed mother 
was forced to come with her two children, to claim the sup- 
port of her father. She espoused a second time, but died in 
the meridian of life, under peculiar circumstances of painful 
sorrow. As for his other daughter, the mother of Walter, the 
tenderly beloved of his scion group, cruel Fate had caused 


A SKETCH OF CHARACTER. 


127 


her, too, to disappoint his ardent dream of Hope. As if For- 
tune were contesting with him the battle of Life, face to face, 
every enterprise confided to others, had fallen back upon him 
a failure, whereas the undertakings of which he had retained 
the sole management, were always crowned with striking 
success. 

Thus isolated from dependent aid, he might be likened to a 
man breasting the swelling current with unassisted arm. His 
children thrown back upon him for support, at that advanced 
period of life, when man having sown with faithful energy, 
looks for filial aid and sympathy, had the effect to knit every 
joint and fibre of his being. Chagrin falling upon an ardent 
nature, had acerbated his temper, melancholy arising from the 
failure of his dearest plans in life, had tinged his character 
with moroseness. 

Thus he bore the appearance of being hard ; but the world 
as usual did not read him aright. True, struggling Fate had 
left upon his exterior a tough-hued aspect, yet he carried still 
a royal nature within. You might have said, in the language 
of Franklin, that his faults were of that inverted kind, which 
makes a man appear worse than he really is. 

A fact or two, may set this point in a clearer light. If he 
could not be persuaded to unite with the leaders of the Tem- 
perance cause, it was because he lacked faith in their sin- 
cerity. If he became estranged from public worship on the 
Sabbath, he faithfully read the Bible at home, and supported 
liberally the institutions of the gospel. If he kept aloof from 
town-politics, it was because he felt a disgust at the reckless 
manoeuvres of narrow-minded wire pullers. If his dwelling 
was furnished in severe simplicity, and his daily table ruled 
to scanty frugality, it was because he deemed these as essen- 
tial republican virtues. It may have been further, because 
he was too persistent to lay aside habits formed in the early 


128 


THE FISHER BOY. 


times of need. But on a Thanksgiving day, a wedding, or 
ii[>on any occasion of entertaining friends, when to spread 
generously the table bears with it an expression of unstinted 
welcome, his soul was wont to flow forth with most gracious 
liberality. And when he travelled, too, from home, he bore 
himself in a style or regal largeness. There was an ampli- 
tude in his whole character, when properly viewed, that 
abashed all meanness. Indeed, his nature seemed studded all 
over with green spots, that were really refreshing. These 
indicated a wealth of liberal spirit, that could scarcely have 
been found elsewhere, even in those good old primitive 
times, and which might now be looked for the world over in 
vain. 

For example, he never allowed himself to receive toll at 
hi^ grist mill, from destitute widows, or the extreme poor. 
Rarely could he be prevailed upon to take pay from a neigh- 
bor for having furnished a horse for a drive. Herrings taken 
in the brook, were distributed among any who might come for 
them, after reserving a mess for his own table ; and a success- 
ful day around the Beach, seining for bass, was hailed as a 
boon in the neighborhood. Visitors and even casual callers, 
were greeted with well filled decanters, and urged freely to 
partake. At one time, when a dearth for bread was stalking 
with threatening aspect through the settlement, and one of his 
schooners ran the gauntlet through the British squadron in 
the Chesapeake Bay, and arrived safely home, he sent every 
poor widow in town a half bushel of corn, then selling at ten 
dollars per bushel. As a thing of course, neighbors were 
always sent a cut of newly killed beef or pork. Indeed, no 
balance sheet was ever made of favors. 

But his passions were of giant strength. When fully 
aroused, the tornado was not more fierce ; nor the lightning 
more vengeful. He was impatient of contradiction, and his 


A SKETCH OF CHARACTER. 


129 


will was law. He exacted implicit deference, and whoever 
neglected to listen to the conclusion of one of his long winded 
stories, offended him for life. False pretence fared hard at 
his hands, and all manner of trickery shivered at his glance. 

Possessed of a large antique form, his muscles had grown 
to iron by exposure. The pure red English blood flowed in 
his veins, and his countenance was of that bright, deep hue, 
which is still seen here and there among the descendants of 
the early settlers of New England. In fact, he lived in that 
part of the country, where there has been the least admixture 
of foreign population, where Puritan character is found least 
alloyed, a spot that has sent from its bosom many a noble son, 
but whose barren shores present little allurement to bind the 
step of the stranger. 

Men slandered the old gentleman, who did not possess a 
tithe of his sterling character, his genuine honesty of purpose, 
his noble integrity of life. They carped at his nonconformity 
with the conventionalities of the village life, when with all his 
eccentricities, he possessed infinitely more strength and power 
of goodness than they all. 

If he could not fawn, it was because a manly impulse 
sprang up in his breast, in protest against such degradation. 
If he could not assume the guise of false seeming, in order to 
conciliate and win, it was because stern reality had become 
too interwoven into the texture of his nature, to render possi- 
ble such humiliation. He typified largely that quality of 
character found occasionally here and there in the world, 
which abhors the subterfuge of sailing under false colors, pre- 
ferring the hard alternative of being misunderstood, unappre- 
ciated, of ill-success, or in fact, of any fate, to the most daz- 
zling fortune, if accompanied by .the loss of that fresh, throb- 
bing, noble manhood, which is the first ray, the last vestige of 
the godlike in man. 


130 


THE FISHER BOY. 


His quaint gray. home stood upon an elevated site of 
ground, and his broad acres stretched east and west, ending 
in luxuriant woodland at the north, and descending on the 
south to the verge of the sea. The place thus commanded a 
wide sweep of the ocean, and this could always be broadened 
by a time-worn spy-glass awaiting the curious in one corner 
of the parlor cupboard. 

When Walter entered, he found his grandfather seated by 
a crackling oak fire which was burning brightly in the capa- 
cious fire-place, sedately smoking a stubbed clay pipe, as was 
his wont. A complacent grunt was all the response he 
vouchsafed to the boy’s warm but deferential salutation. But 
when Walter with all the gusto of a youthful hero, related 
the thrilling adventures of his late fishing-cruise, the whiffs 
from the pi^^e grew more frequent and copious, his stern fea- 
tures relaxed, and the corners of his eyes moistened with 
sympathetic pride. In reality Mr. Walfinch loved very 
deeply his grandchild, and nothing but a stern, unrelenting 
pride prevented his confessing it outright. Left to the im- 
pulse of natural emotion, he would have folded the boy to his 
bosom, adopted him as his only heir, and cherished him with 
the tenderness of a youthful lover ; so void had been his life 
of congeniality, and so much did he crave an object of 
sympathy, upon which to lavish the welled up affections of 
his heart. But our affections rarely flow in the willing chan- 
nels of the heart. Either some obstacle dams up altogether 
the swollen current, or turns it to courses repugnant to the 
instinctive impulse of love. 

Borne on by the glow of genial converse, the hours had 
flown swiftly, and the evening was now well nigh spent. 
Walter was standing near the door-way of the room, balanc- 
ing in his mind, whether he should yield to the warm, press- 
ing solicitations of the family to spend the night where he 


A SPECTRE. 


131 


was, at his grandfather’s, or be governed by what seemed the 
paramount claim, as well as expectation of his mother, for his 
society, and return immediately home, when turning casually 
ai’ound, he was suddenly struck by a strange apparition. It 
was seen by him out-doors, through one of the windows, and 
appeared like the face of a female, close to one of the window 
panes, staring wildly toward him. But before, he could col- 
lect himself from the shock which the sight gave him, suffi- 
ciently to scan the countenance, the figure had disappeared. 

This startling incident was sufficient to turn the scale in 
favor of remaining for the night, and he reeled to a seat near 
the fire. Members of the family were quick to perceive the 
striking change in the manner of the boy, but no one could 
divine the reason, nor would any one summon resolution to 
inquire. 

Erewhile Walter was conducted to his sleeping apartment. 
It was of that severe simplicity to remind one of primitive 
times. Very narrow, with wainscoted walls, unpainted, the 
only furniture was a single chair, a cherry-wood, crow-foot 
stand, and a small antique mirror, suspended obliquely from 
the wall. The counterpane of the bed was of woollen, and 
was a veritable product of the domestic loom. Upon the 
stand lay a bible, with heavy metaUic clasps. Adown the 
only window of the apartment, hung a curtain, and it and the 
pillow-cases, were of snowy whiteness. Indeed, the closest 
eye could scarcely have detected so much as a stain, or parti- 
cle of dust within the precincts of the room. An embalmed 
air of neatness pervaded the apartment, so palpable as to lay 
hold of the sense. 

Walter lay with eyes opened, ruminating long upon the 
spectacle that had so excited him anew. He could not doubt 
its being the same that had so quickened his footsteps, on 
coming hither, and he thought to trace a resemblance between 


132 


THE FISHER BOY. 


the face and the one he met a few weeks before upon the 
tiny bridge. There was the same deep, suffering look, 
with a strange pertinacity to hang around his pathway. But 
who could this mysterious being be; whence came she'; and 
what was her design upon the boy, that she was thus follow- 
ing upon his footsteps like a haunting ghost. 

Excited conceptions of curdling stories, that had been pic- 
tured by the superstitious upon his childhood mind, began 
moving athwart his distempered brain in spectral troops; 
when lo, and behold, springs before his excited eye-balls, an- 
other apparition ! It seems to issue from the depths of the 
dusky air; it settles slowly toward him, and ‘becomes fixed 
over his breast.' He cannot be mistaken. It is the same face 
he met upon the bridge ; and the identical one, he had just 
seen through the window. He cannot now avoid, if he will, 
a scrutinizing look. Her hair hangs in wild, dishevelled tres- 
ses. A deep, entranced glow beams from her wild, burning 
eyes. But upon her brow there appears enthroned a calm, 
holy will, and there seems to play about her mouth, the angel 
smile of Hope. 

There was thus nothing sinister in- the expression of the 
face, and Walter would have spoken to the phantom, but his 
tongue refused utterance. He tried to arouse from his pos- 
ture, but he seemed pinioned to the spot. 

At length, when his faculties became collected, the spectre 
melted back into the darkness. He now sprang from his bed, 
but his knees were tremulous with weakness. A cold sweat lay 
upon his forehead, and the air of the room seemed failing him 
of breath. He threw open the window, to sniff the fresh air 
of heaven ; and throwing on his clothes, he escaped out-doors, 
but all was quiet and natural. The stars in the upper deep 
were shining with undimmed lustre. Several headland lights 
were gleaming from afar athwart the water, with constancy of 


ILLUSIONS. 


133 


blaze. The roaring distant surf came gently floating in low 
diapason upon the midnight air. A whispering breeze sighed 
mellifluously through the verdant pines near, and the old 
family dog came and licked sympathetically Walter’s hand, as 
if to assure him that there was nothing to fear in the sur- 
rounding world of darkness. 

Ashamed of his own trepidation, and fearful of awaking the 
family, he returned quietly to his room, but it was not till 
Aurora began streaking the east with rosy light, that he could 
compose himself for repose. 

When that -wary band of sentinels, the nervous system, has 
once been overpowered by fright, either by the presence of 
real danger, or by the illusions of the imagination, not unfre- 
quently, the slightest touch by the phantom-finger, in the 
choir of our association, is sufficient to reproduce in exaggera- 
ted horror the original object of our terror. 


12 


CHAPTER IX. 


“ There’s language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, 

Nay, her foot speaks, her wanton spirits look out 
At every joint and motion of her body.” 

Shakspearb. 

‘‘Does she lay her course,” demanded the skipper of 
Maid. 

“ Aye, and a point free,” was the gruff response. 

The latter speaker (in a musing mood) was standing 
astride the little crooked tiller, which he was sculling from 
side to side, as if to aid the Pink in her plodding course. 

“Then keep her full and by,” resumed the skipper, “ We’ll 
put enough into the pot. Those clouds look like giving us 
the wind more from the westward, toward midnight.” 

“ Aye, aye,” reiterated the Salt, with a true twang of a sou 
of Neptune. 

The vessel had now got past the Cape, and Highland 
Light was gleaming serenely over the undulating water. 

“ Another gallon to your score, eh, my lad,” chuckled Fish- 
all, who had just come out of the cabin, smoking a newly 
lighted pipe, so short as to answer the double purpose of lux- 
uriating in the weed, and, at the same time, keeping warm a 
somewhat protruding nose. 

Walter with great simplicity ventured to ask what the reck- 
oning meant. 

“ Why, ’tis an old custom,” replied Fishall, “ that boys pay 
a gallon of liquor for every light they pass. It goes to treat 

( 134 ) 


ENLIVENING SCENE. 


135 


all hands, and is called paying the Footing. You’ll follow 
suit, of course.” 

“ Bah,” muttered Marl, “ Don’t get alarmed, before you’re 
in danger. The boy’ll do his part. I’ll be bound, not a mean 
thread in the fellow.” 

The faithful Pink kept her way, bobbing along over the 
tiny waves, which swelled in size, as they drew away from 
the winding Cape, into the broad bosomed bay. 

Weary of the pitchy prospect, and drooping with fatigue, 
the boy stole away to his bunk. 

When he awoke in the morning, it was broad daylight. 
The cook had turned out, and was bustling away toward pre- 
paring breakfast. But the rest of the crew, overcome with 
exhaustion in working up the harbor, were still buried in 
slumber. Their deep respiration showed well enough, that 
they were afar off in the land of dreams. 

But Walter was too full of curiosity, to remain willingly in 
the cabin. As he reached the deck, he was struck at once 
with wonder. The magic city, its interminable roar of life, 
the heterogeneous flash of activity, the gay craft in the har- 
bor, all made up a scene which to the youthful eye of the boy 
seemM enchantment itself. It sprang upon his maidenly 
sense, like awaking to celestial visions. He could scarcely 
have felt more wondrously excited, if he had found himself in 
a new world. 

Nestling upon the heel of the bowsprit, he sat distracted, 
gazing around in mute delight. His rustic eye, pellucid in 
the freshness of Nature, was enthralled in the mazy chai’m 
of Art. 

Breakfast over, all hands were mustered to heave the ves- 
sel into the wharf. Lines being run and anchor weighed, the 
movement began briskly. Walter was sent in the boat along 
with Fishall ; but for once the boy did not acquit himself so 


136 


THE FISHER BOY. 


acceptably as was his wont. The dazzle and clash of novel 
scenes and voices overcame his self-control. More than once, 
he found himself as motionless as a statue, absorbed by some 
striking object, quite oblivious to the duty before him. This 
could not fail to bring him under the lash of Fishall. It net- 
tled too the skipper out of his imperturbable placidity. And 
even Marl could not refrain a rebuke, advising the boy to quit 
star-gazing and look to his business. They did not perceive 
this remissness to be but the natural working of an ingenuous 
nature in the boy — a spirit that augured an elastic step in 
the world’s climbings. 

As an interval must elapse before they could commence 
receiving on board the salt and stores, the day following their 
arrival was one of absolute leisure. It was passed by the 
crew in that state of beguiling indolence, which the occupa- 
tion of fishing seems so fitted to transfuse into the nature. 
But in the evening, it was proposed to make a stroll in the 
city by way of recreation. This was favored by acclamation. 
Especially was Walter in ecstasy at the anticipation of ac- 
tually seeing Boston, and thus realizing a splendid day-dream 
of his boyhood. 

Accordingly, taking a harbor-wash, and donning their best 
go-a-shore habiliments, they stood in their shoes amazingly 
elevated in a delicate feeling of self-respect. To be sure, 
they could not be reckoned finely dressed, but they felt as 
hearty a sense of that indefinable charm that accompanies the 
renovation of the outward man, as could the daintiest fashion- 
able, attired for the faultless elegancies of a lady’s drawing- 
room. 

Off they blithely started, suddenly changed in appearance 
from the men they had been during the day, while lazily 
yawning upon the spars and coils of rigging on board. In- 
deed, they would hardly have been taken for the same beings. 


WALK ABOUT BOSTON. 


137 


A new element had transformed them. The glow of vivacity 
that lifts the feelings on stepping ashore from confinement on 
board a vessel, can scarcely be imagined by a landsman. 
The embrace of mother-earth seems redolent with affection. 
The iningling current of warm fellow life, imparts a sympa- 
thetic flow to our feelings. 

Marl being best acquainted with the city, led the way, with 
the view of glancing at such notable parts as might be most 
conveniently passed in the scanty time they had for the tour. 
The rest followed under that sentiment of deference we natu- 
rally feel for superiority. As for Walter, he was in a tittila- 
tion of anticipation. What wonders of beauty were to break 
upon his enraptured gaze ! 

On reaching Washington street, his bright hopes were 
more than realized. The dazzling splendor of light, the 
sweeping by of elegantly attired people, the dash and anima- 
tion of superb vehicles, the majesty of lofty and massive edi- 
fices, the magnificence of the shops, made up a scene that be- 
wildered his sense with delightful curiosity. To his en- 
tranced vision, it was a magic scene, touched with a fairy life. 
His faculties were in a high state of agreeable excitement. 
He could have lingered long amid the bright conceptions of 
liis teeming brain, and he felt a sweet glow of gratitude for 
the happiness he inwardly felt. 

How keen the emotions of youth, as the susceptible facul- 
ties, opening upon a world of nature and art are kept in a 
perpetual glow of delightful wonder, while each successive 
scene unfolding to view, keeps up the enchantment. How 
unhappy that this glorious hallucination of soul should ever 
cease, — that there should be a time when the scenes of life 
have lost their charm, — a single moment in our brief span, 
when all the matchless contrivances of art, or the sublime 
wanders of Nature in her endless transformations, should pall 

12 * 


138 


THE FISHER BOY. 


upon the soul ! But is such a state natural ? May it not he 
a moral perversion of the sensibilities, a condition of spiritual 
distemper ? Are not Nature and Art ample to keep alive 
with freshened interest the unfolding faculties, until disem- 
bodied, the soul wings its transit to an abode where all is pe- 
rennial joy ? 

“ There,” remarked Marl, as they wended along the prim 
walks of the Common, or Mall, as it was then called, “ There 
rises the Old Liberty Tree. If some gracious Genii were to 
endow it with a tongue, what a burning tale might it not un- 
fold. It could tell of many a Jliought-wombed council held 
under its protecting shadow, at a time when the spirit of 
Freedom was travailing for birth upon the new world. And 
does your eye ken that shadowy building upon the right, that 
crowns our modern Athens, as St. Paul’s rears its mighty 
dome above the mammoth London ? Well, that’s our proud, 
old, noble State House, and no mean piece of architecture is 
it either. Its summit commands a prospect, that does a New 
Englander’s heart good to embrace. Below, upon tablets of 
stone, one reads sublime memorials of the tempestuous pas- 
sages of our forefathers, in their dark voyage to Independ- 
ence. But the most grateful object for contemplation of all, 
is a full sized statue of Washington himself, the glorious cap- 
tain that steered our frail Ship of State safely across the 
howling waters of the Revolution ; and who, take him all in 
all, was, I conclude, a little the noblest piece of humanity big- 
wombed time has ever given birth to.” 

By this time, Walter had pressed close up to the Salt, and 
was drinking in, as it were, the very breath of his sentences. 

“ That large edifice,” continued the sailor, “ that I pointed 
out as we came along, is the Old Cradle of Liberty, so called, 
because here amid the lullaby surges of a seven years’ war, 
was rocked into being an infant empire. 


SIGHT-SEEING. 


130 


“And off yonder, to the north-east, rises Bunker’s or 
rather Breed’s Hill, where the haughty Britishers first 
caught a specimen of Yankee pluck. Daddy Bull here wo- 
fully found, that he’d just sent over his son Jonathan to pick 
out the eyes of the sire. — Ah, no monument’s needed to 
guide the American heart to this spot ; for the sacred place 
is not only engraved in lines of fire upon the country’s soul, 
but ’tis enshrined in the memory of heroism throughout the 
world. Wherever a noble heart shall throb for liberty, there 
will be heaved a generous sigh for the heaven-born sacrifices 
that cluster around this spot. 

“ A little this side of Bunker Hill, is the Navy Yard. ’Tis 
here that preparations are kept up for engaging the enemy on 
the sea. And thoroughly is the work done, too. No botch- 
work there, I assure you. ’Tis all complete order and sys- 
tem ; and everybody there, has to toe the mark. You’d see 
there, my boy, some big guns, and whopping ships, all kept 
as prig and shiny as a pewter platter. 

“ You seem posted up in these matters,” interposed Fishall. 

“ And why shouldn’t I be,” returned the Salt, “ after going 
seven years at sea in the service, and two in the Yard. 
That’s enough, I conclude, to get a tolerable acquaintance 
with Uncle Sam.” 

“And how did you like the old gentleman,” demanded 
Fishall. 

“ Why to confess,” growled Marl, “ none of the best, or I’d 
been there now. He’s rather an exacting master with the 
lesser tribe of his servants, but then he doesn’t always forget 
them who serve him well.” 

Here the company falling in with a couple of benches, very 
opportunely placed along the walks for loiterers, they seated 
themselves, and began yielding to the veering current of talk. 
While the crew were scanning passers by, or indulging in 


140 


THE FISHER BOY. 


sncli trivial remarks as tlie circumstances suggested, Walter 
was absorbed in the amazing panorama that had just swept 
athwart his vision, like the corruscatidns of a gorgeous dream. 
Ilis mind turned to prying into the meaning of what he had 
seen. Theirs was a glancing eye that flitted upon the sur- 
face ; his a deeper look, that strove to penetrate below. As 
for Marl, the golden associations of his youth, reawakened by 
the presence of familiar objects, loosed his tongue, which rat- 
tled on with a volubility in marked contrast with his usual 
taciturnity. 

“ Why how very greatly in haste everybody appeared to be 
as we came along. They seemed hurrying on after some 
sight, or fleeing quickly from danger,” thoughtfully observed 
Walter. 

“ Neither,” interrupted Marl, “ a habit, only a habit, that’s 
all, my boy. The city you must know’s little more than a 
vast beehive where people throng to heap up riches. The 
intense struggle for success arouses the energies to the fullest, 
and this comes insensibly to affect even the ordinary move- 
ments of the body. The current of life in these huge marts 
of trade, does not flow evenly, as with you adown the coun- 
try, but sweeps along in enormous whirlpools, into the vor- 
tices of which all are drawn by the mere force of circum- 
stances.” 

“ But how very nice it must be, just to live among so really 
sociable people, and so agreeable,” continued Walter. 

“ A slight optical illusion that, as they’d say over yonder 
at Harvard. I must tell you that the bulk of the city people 
are not half as well acquainted with each other, as your coun- 
try folks are, nor do they spend near so much time as the lat- 
ter, in cordial social converse, and mutual kindly offices. 
True, the city brings the bodies of people together, but it sep- 
arates their minds. 


FASHION. 


141 


“But how very polite, everybody appeared,” persisted 
Walter. 

“ Say affable, rather, my boy. Politeness is a word of 
deeper import. It springs from a native source, and is often 
seen from under the roughest exterior. It flows from the 
well-spring of goodness. Its basis is integrity, and its super- 
structure benevolence. * In fact, ’tis simply kindness kindly 
expressed. Whereas, the gracious manner you notice is very 
much a matter of fashion or policy. Where the true charac- 
ter is not seen, a person is rated at what he seems, and this 
begets a habit of condescending courtesy towards whom it is 
the policy to conciliate.” 

“ Then how finely dressed they all were,” continued the 
boy, apparently without thinking that he was opposing the 
sailor. 

“ Gloss, gloss,” growled Marl, that adds not a whit to worth 
of character. Artificial bodies they are, that tailors and man- 
tuamakers make. Do ye know, that fondness for decoration 
in dress, is but an Indian trait at best, and not the most admi- 
rable one in the category, at that ? Dress, ’tis a sinful thing ; 
and the fashion of it as arbitrary as a tyrant ; as unrelenting 
as Death ; and as unblushing as crime itself. It turns the 
body into a legion of unnatural shapes, and sets people’s wits 
agog. It pads up and glosses over the hideous spiritual de- 
formity of people, giving the same faultless elegance to the 
most rickety and grovelling being, as to a soul of the divinest 
mould. ’Tis a mighty leveUer, rolling down individual supe- 
riority, and imprinting society with factitious hues. But the 
worst about dress is, that it helps lure off the mind from the 
true objects of life, and fix it upon the most trivial of human 
aims. Ah, my boy, real beauty is not so much a thing con- 
jured up by human device, as a native plant carefully nur- 
tured within the soul. 


142 


THE FISHER BOY. 


“ But the people all appeared so intelligent,” di^awled the 
boy. 

“A slight illusion there, again,” retorted Marl, rather 
sharply. “ Saving a limited class of cultivated persons of lei- 
sure, the people of the city are not so well informed in mat- 
ters of general import, as are the folks in the country. The 
city people may show more pertness, may have certain con- 
ventional notions and forms of speech, which they get a glib- 
ness in by eternally repeating — a certain prettiness of talk ; 
but in strength of judgment, depth of intelligence, or original- 
ity of thought, they are far behind the better class of country 
folks.” 

“ So delightful to be where one can go to shows, to specta- 
cles, to concerts ; and then how grand to be surrounded by so 
splendid objects. 'Why, ’tis glorious just to live in such a 
place,” persisted Walter. 

“ Whew, boy. A touch of the reality would bring down 
that enthusiasm a peg or two, I fancy,” sarcastically rejoined 
Marl. “ Let me tell you, that it takes a little of the rhino, to 
follow up such places of amusement ; and a surplus of the 
precious article is not what every city man even has to spare. 
With the mass of the denizens of a city, ’tis a struggle for life 
from hand to mouth ; or a more intense struggle to escape -the 
whirlpool of bankruptcy. Then, the frugal business man has 
a certain maxim, bequeathed him by that old sage, Ben 
Franklin. This, he holds as his chart and compass for suc- 
cess. It is this : “ That Time is Money.” Now, it unwinds 
the short thread of life a little too rapidly to be running after 
shows. Most, whose business, like a hard master, keeps them 
early and late, when once the day is over, are quite content 
to nestle snugly down, and rest their jaded faculties for the 
routine of the morrow’s sun. And whenever these do start 
off for a moment’s relaxation, their faculties have been so 


CITY AND COUNTRY LIFE. 


143 


overworked,. as to be unfitted for the enjoyment of a perform- 
ance. For you must know, that the interest of an exhibition 
depends more upon the listener than upon the actor. Most 
who go to the city, go there to make much money quickly, 
and then retire ; and so enchained are they to this intent, as 
to find little gratification in aught else. This controlling de- 
sire obscures everything besides. 

“ As for splendor, as you term it, the bright novelty of that 
soon wears away, and with it goes the charm, like the cheat- 
ing mirage of a summer sea. It fades like the pleasing lustre 
of a new house. Even the few of leisure who have little else 
for occupation, than to gild the flagging hours, become aweary 
of their dulcet life, and the most cunning device for enliven- 
ment, soon palls upon the sensibilities, like the surfeit of a 
rich banquet. Yes, he continued, waxing whrmer, I’d rather 
be the raggedest plough-boy in the country, so I could have 
the open sky above, the blue hills before, and the breezes of 
heaven blowing freely around me, than your newest starched 
gent, in Washington Street, imprisoned among finery, and 
dancing attendance to the wiles of Trade. One quafi* from 
the fount of Nature, is worth to me all the trickery of Art 
that can be mustered.” 

“ Yes,” urged the boy, growing more bold, “ but then ’tis 
only a little while, struggling so. After gaining a fortune, 
they can retire to a handsome country seat, and enjoy their 
wealth ; and how nice this must be.” 

“ Only a few j^ears, eh,” retorted Marl, snappishly. “ Ah, 
my dear fellow, ’tis generally a long passage, let me assure 
you, ere those who embark upon the uncertain sea of trade, 
reach the glittering port of wealth ; and only the merest frag- 
ment of such as set out, ever find the port at all. Most run 
bolt upon the rocks of pure miscalculation, leaving their frag- 
ments wide floating for common plunder; or are driven 


144 


THE FISHER BOY. 


ashore high and dry, by the furious gales of mischance, a 
prey to the greedy wrecker ; or what is still worse, founder 
in heavy weather at sea, when down they sink, straight into 
the remorseless jaws of hungry creditors.” 

“ Some, after having successfully braved the perils of the 
voyage, go down with all on board, just in sight of port. This 
is the hardest fate of all. ’Twas the dark misfortune of my 
own poor father to be one of these. After a life of intense 
industry, his head silvered by hard devotion to trade, just on 
the eve of retiring to spend the twilight of his days at a mag- 
nificent country-villa, nearly completed for him ; by some un- 
lucky endorsement, he made a dreadful slip-bend, and his for- 
tune flew, as upon the wings of the wind. A horde of cred- 
itors pounced upon him, as if he were a common felon. Good, 
dear mother, died under the shock. Father lingered but a 
few years. Angel sister, the purest spirit of earth, — and 
here the veteran sailor covered for a moment his face with 
his hands, while his stalwart frame shook with convulsive 
emotion, — now that the cloud of adversity had burst upon us, 
was deserted by the hollow-hearted youngster, to whom in 
her guileless innocence, she had confided her pure affection, 
— when she, too, like a sweet flower, cut by the ruthless 
scythe, drooped under the stroke, and gently fell into the cold, 
unfeeling earth, — and I — I took to the sea, to hide myself 
from the face of men, and wash away the remembrance of my 
misfortune, in the storms of the ocean.” 

Again the rugged sador covered his face, and remained a 
few moments in silence, his powerful frame heaving all the 
time, with deep emotion, from the mastery of bitter remem- 
brances, mingled, it may be, with a twinge of remorse, for 
having dropped so unwarily a clue to his life, about which he 
had ever before maintained the most pertinacious reserve. 

Walter had pressed closely up to the stricken man in sym- 


VIEWS OF CITY-LIFE. 


145 


pathetic reverence, while the rest of the crew, struck with 
commiseration, preserved a thoughtful silence. 

At length, brightening serenely up, like the sunbeam face of 
a shadowy cloud, the sailor resumed. “ The very few who 
make a successful voyage, and retire with the coveted leisure 
and abundance, find their sympathies to have been so nar- 
rowed by intense action in a single line of pursuit, as to ren- 
der plain, natural life destitute of genuine relish. Besides, 
their minds so long active, crave by habit, continued excite- 
ment. They soon pine from pure lack of occupation. The 
truth now bursts upon them. In the exclusive pursuit of 
wealth, they have been chasing a mere phantom. Its Will o* 
the Wisp light has lured them off* the upland air of humanity, 
into the swampy mazes of selfishness.” 

“ Still,” persisted the boy, “ it must be very pleasant living 
in the city.” 

“ A very natural inference for a youngster to make,” quoth 
the sailor. “ But there is a slight diff*erence between fact and 
Fancy, my boy. Many a scene, bright to the ardent eye of 
youth, proves on inspection, but a dissolving view. The city 
is but a larger theatre. At a distance, the shifting scenes are 
mazy with magic beauty, and the painted actors fascinate us 
by their lordly strut and fine frenzy of manner. But a peep 
behind the curtain dissolves the illusion. We see but the 
bloated body of Bacchus, the rattling bones in the valley of 
Death, the reverse side of a gilded vesture, bald and tawdry. 
It has a fair form to look upon, but its breath is foul and con- 
tagious. If you would continue the illusion, approach not too 
near, nor look too close into its hidden mysteries. The en- 
amored of the city think to embrace spiritual beauty, but 
awake hugging but a deformed carcass.” 

“ But for one, I’d like to have wealth,” exclaimed the boy, 
glad to save something from the wreck of his argument. 

13 


146 


THE FISHER BOY. 


“Very like,” rejoined tlie sailor, “but great possessions 
often prove but a millstone to drown a man in his own waters. 
An uncultivated rich man is something in the situation of an 
ant upon a fat carcass. He is in possession of an abundance, 
but can take only up to his narrow capacity of enjoyment. 
As for the rest, he is at most but a guardian for others to use 
or enjoy, — but a sentinel at the temple of wealth. It can 
hardly soothe the pillow of a dying man, to feel that he must 
leave behind what it has cost a lifetime to acquire, especially 
if he knows it will go to a band of dissolute relatives, to be 
scattered to the four corners of the earth.” 

The passing of loiterers had now nearly ceased, and feeling 
a chilly sensation frora the damp of the evening, and from 
their long sitting, they all began motioning to return. • 

“ Do you really mean what you’ve said,” asked Fishall ; “ is 
there no good in the city ? ” 

“ I grant that there is,” replied Marl, “ but I like to take 
off the feathery edge of the boy’s enthusiasm.” ^ 

“ Well, I think ’tis very convenient, at any rate, to have a 
rich father,” cautiously ventured Fishall. 

“ Convenient, aye, but is convenience to be thought of in 
the battle for success ? ” bridled up Marl, a little touched at 
the unexpected opposition. “ Did you not know, that the 
successful men have sprung nearly always from poor parents ? 
Self-dependence tends to bring the requisite self-reliance and 
energy for success. Indeed, as human nature is, a father can 
scarcely entail a greater curse upon, his child, than riches. 
The very notion of the child that he is independent, takes 
away all motive for effort, and the possession itself induces 
imbecility.” 

“ But you wouldn’t object to having enough to set a son up 
in business ? ” asked Fishall. 

“ That, oftener than otherwise, does more harm than good,” 


AN AtJCTION ROOM. 


147 


replied Marl ; “ give a youngster capital to commence trade 
with, and ten to one, but he’ll fail from sheer inexperience. 
On the contrary, let him earn his capital, and he is gaining his 
money and experience together, so that, by the time he has 
accumulated the requisite capital, he has the experience skil- 
fully to use it.” 

“ I don’t quite see how that is,” demured Fishall. 

“Well, let me try to make it plain. Put a young man in 
command of a large, fine ship at once, and likely as not he’ll 
soon lose her. But let him begin with the command of a 
boat, and so work his way up, until he gets the ship, he then 
has gained experience to take care of her.” 

Fishall was silent. He felt the force of the sailor’s rea- 
soning ; and he was too unsophisticated to argue for the sake 
of arguing. 

They wended along vessel ward. But reaching a business 
street, the roving eye of Fishall caught sight of a red flag 
over a spacious door-way. Persons were passing up and 
down a broad flight of stairs, and the sharp voice of an auc- 
tioneer was heard in the room above. 

“ Let’s go in a while,” urged Fishall, “’tis not late.” 

“Nonsense,” growled Marl, “some Peter Funk concern. 
You are sure of getting sold in such places ; and of coming 
away with a lighter purse, less esteem for human nature, as 
well as a loss of self-respect.” 

But the allurement of the place, triumphed over the advise 
of Marl, and they all went up, except the sailor, who turned 
off to another store for a purchase of his own. 

The room, brightly lighted, was packed with a motley 
throng. Dusty maps and gaudy paintings were hung around 
upon the walls. Tawdry articles were exposed here and 
there tq view. A tall, slim man, with a keen eye and wiry 
face, was mounted upon a desk, attending to the sales. By 


148 


THE FISHER BOY. 


his side was an attendant, and in a corner was a book- 
keeper. 

As they entered the room there was a hush amid the com- 
pany, but the auctioneer bustled with livelier activity. 

Well,” broke forth the man of sales, “Here’s something 
will take your eye. I’ll be bound,” pulling out at the same 
time a paper-case, containing a medley of articles. “ If you 
can’t. get suited here, gentlemen, you’re hard to please, — sil- 
ver-watch, gold pencil-case, magnificent breast-pin, and other 
articles too numerous to mention ; from a gentleman’s tooth- 
pick, to ear-rings fit for an empress. Just look here ” — hold- 
ing up to view, and displaying a massive ring, profusely 
loaded with stones. “ Here’s a little article that lord Ches- 
terfield himself would have felt proud in wearing.” 

“ Now how much shall I have a-piece for the lot. Mind 
ye, I sell the whole for so much a-piece. Make me a bid, 
gentlemen. How much shall I have — one dollar — seventy- 
five cents — fifty — twenty cents — anything you please, gen- 
tlemen. How much, I say, how ” ^ 

“ F our pence ha’penny,” struck out a voice from amid the 
crowd. 

“Four pence bid,” responded with a jerk, the auctioneer; 
“ thank ye, sir — generous ; ” then suppressing a laugh, with 
a mock show of dignity, and drawling out the words, “ f-o-u-r 
p-e-n-c-e. Why gentlemen, here’s one article ” — displaying 
a heavy yellow metallic chain ; “ that’s worth the whole 
amount, at that rate, and* leave you the rest for nothing. — 
Four pence ha’penny a-piece for the lot. Well, gentlemen, 
I’m bound to sell them at some price. They must be sold to 

close a consignment — and sell them I will — four pence 

going, going — shall I have ten cents, nine, eight, seven ? ” 

“ Seven cents,” echoed another voice. 

“ Thank ye. Seven cents — seven, shall I have eight ? ” 


THE AUCTIONEER. 


149 


“ Eight cents,” issued from another corner. 

“ Eight cents ; shall I have nine ? ” 

“ Nine cents,” followed another bid. 

“ Nine cents, going, going, gone ” — and down came the 
hammer with a bound. 

“To whom — who takes it at nine cents ; whose bid ? ” 

“Mr. PTazier.” 

“Mr. Frazier — charge to Mr. Frazier.” 

There was an eager curiosity to see the purchase. The 
box was accordingly passed charily around, amid an occa- 
sional ejaculation of wonder, at the richness of the bargain. 

“ Ah, here’s one more, interrupted the auctioneer,” pulling 
along another box, “just one more left. Who’ll take this at 
the same price ? Who’ll have it ? — a bargain for some one.” 

“French,” resounded from the middle of the crowd. 

“Mr. French, charge to Mr. French,” shouted the auc- 
tioneer. 

“ Heighho — two more,” exclaimed the man of sales, as the 
attendant clerk placed two more boxes before him, “ I thought 
we had the last.” 

A conversation now in an under tone took place between 
them, seemingly about the apparent mistake. 

“Well, they must be sold at any rate,” resumed the auc- 
tioneer. “ Who’ll take another, at the same price ?” speaking 
in an unconcerned tone and manner. 

“ Bodfish,” spoke out a voice. 

“ Mr.' Bodfish ; charge to Mr. Bodfish.” 

“ One box now left, just one more. Who’ll take it, gentle- 
men ? The last you’ll have, on my word. Who takes it ? 
Another can’t be bought for ten times the money, no, not for 
any price. Who has it ? ” 

“ By this time, Fishall had got thoroughly excited ; and 
liaving found that he could borrow some dollar or so, of 
13 * 


150 


THE FISHER BOY. 


change, from one of the crew — breathed out that he would 
take it. 

“ Who ? ” inquired the auctioneer, leaning forward to catch 
the voice. 

“ Fishall,” spoke out the fisherman, quiveringly. 

“ Fishall, ah yes, Mr. Fishall. Step up, Mr. Fishall, and 
take your goods. Make way gentlemen for Mr. Fishall. 
Here, Mr. Clerk, attend to Mr. Fishall.” 

Fishall at length reached the counter, and was there po- 
litely informed, that his purchase amounted to $75.28. The 
fisherman was struck aghast. He could not believe it. The 
clerk counted the articles, and made it plain before his eyes. 
But $75 — a summer’s voyage of itself. He was in conster- 
nation, and began stammering out something about not know- 
ing. 

“Ah, that’s your game,” screamed the auctioneer, “but no 
tricks. We take no jokes. Come, pay up, sir, or we’ll put 
you in the way of doing it. We can’t wait to chop lo^ic.” 

Walter perceiving Fishall’s embarrassment, made a push 
forward to reach his side. In his way, a burly youngster 
stamped upon his foot, and then squared round, and gruffly 
demanded why Walter had trodden upon his toes. There 
began a turmoil of sensation in the room. Fishall strove for 
a release from his bargain on the score of ignorance, but his 
broken-speech apology was only made the butt of coarse wit- 
ticism. He then essayed a compromise by offering all the 
money in his purse for a release. But this proposition only 
increased the earnestness of the auctioneer. 

“ Eh, you long-shore fishmonger you. I’ll warrant the had- 
dock bones are this minute sticking out of- your sides, like 
quills from the back of a porcupine. You come up here with 
your gurry-butt blarney,” screamed the man of sales, at the 
*ame time swinging his hammer with the flourish of f 


A SCUFFLE. 


151 


French Fencing Master. “I’ll teach you; I will, how to jole 
a cod.” 

Fishall was of a peaceful nature, but such burning words 
were not to be brooked. Throwing a glance of ineffable con- 1 
tempt, accompanied by' a gesture of defiance at the auctioneer, 
he made a rush for the door of the room. The crowd pressed 
around to cut off his retreat, but once fairly aroused, the ath- 
letic fisherman ploughed his way through them, and down the 
stair-way amid the noise and scufile. The rest of the crew 
succeeded with difficulty in following him. 

Walter was the last. But on reaching the stair- way two 
or three youngsters pounced upon his neck, with the view 
evidently of wrenching off his grasp from the banister, and 
precipitating him headlong into the street. And before he 
could disentangle their wily attack, another big chap gave 
him a tremendous blow upon the back of his head, which sent 
the boy fairly twirling down the stair-way, and sprawling 
upon the pavement of the street. 

Upon rising to his feet, Walter found himself in the midst 
of a meUe with Fishall, who was exchanging blows with the 
crowd, striking full at random, so thick were the enemy upon 
him. The rest of the crew with uplifted voices were hasten- 
ing to the rescue. 

At this critical moment. Old Marl made his appearance, as 
a mountain of light. He sprang like a leopard in their midst, 
and unfolding himself in awful majesty, demanded in a voice 
of thunder, what was the matter. His towering energy was 
magic-like. Intimidated, the enemy slank away, and the crew 
were soon standing alone. 

They now again commenced making their way toward the 
vessel, well enough satisfied with their little adventure. It 
served, however, to increase their confidence in old Marl. 

Fishall, a little ashamed of having been the occasion of 


152 


THE FISHER BOY. 


their misfortune, sought all means to turn the conversation to 
some other topic. 

“ There, boy,” drawled out the fisherman, as they were 
threading a dark, narrow cross street, “do you think you 
could ever find your way down to the vessel again, if left here 
alone ? ” 

“ Aye, that he could,” snapped out Marl, nettled at any dis- 
paraging allusion to Walter, and being otherwise in no placid 
humor toward Fishall, for the awkward scrape he had gotten 
the crew into. 

For once, the judgment of Marl was appealed from by the 
simple-minded crew. They very naturally doubted so unrea- 
sonable a thing, as that the boy could find his way back to the 
vessel unguided. There was a little ripple of excitement 
arising from diverse opinion. But Marl, little disposed to 
brook contradiction, with a recklessness not usual to him, pro- 
ceeded at once to put the matter to the test. So, after lead- 
ing them around amid a perfect maze of windings, he bid the 
boy in a confident tone take the shortest route to the vessel. 

Walter was as perfectly lost as if he had awaked up for the 
first time in the depths of Oregon. But he could no more 
than go wrong, and he was unwilling to risk the displeasure 
of the sailor, by any appearance of hesitancy ; so striking off 
with promptitude, sure enough, as if directed by some unseen 
Mentor, the boy proceeded straight to the vessel, and in the 
shortest possible time, they were on board. Old Marl him- 
self could not have come more direct. It was of course the 
merest chance, but in the eyes of the crew, it elevated the 
Salt to the dignity of a sage, and Walter to a boy of wonder- 
ful genius. He was jever afterward looked upon by them, as 
one destined to some important mission in life. May not the 
tide of fortune in the career of many a man, have taken its 
swell at as insignificant beginnings as this ? 


A GREEN HAND. 


153 


The next day there came on board a man, and applied for 
a birth to go with them a trip. His appearance was far from 
indicating that he knew anything of fishing, or that he could 
otherwise be of much value on board ; but having room for 
one more hand, and there being now little time to look 
around for a choice, the skipper, after consulting some of the 
crew, shipped him. 

He was a very young man ; in fact, he could not be much 
above twenty years of age. But his limbs were sadly shrunk 
up, not from the natural decay of age, but from the blight, as 
it would seem, of some moral disease. Along his skinny, ca- 
daverous hands, ran large, blue veins, swelling as if ready to 
burst their decaying cerements. His sunken, distorted face, 
bearing an expression of dreadful blight, looked as if he had 
been breathing the pestilential sirocco, or that some fierce 
vulture was even then at work, devouring silently the vitals 
of his soul. 

His dress had a genteel fit, and the cloth appeared of supe- 
rior quality ; but it was most disgustingly soiled, and seemed 
no inappropriate counterpart of the melancholy body which 
they encased, — a fit emblem of a soul of natural grace, be- 
drenched in the cesspool of woe-begone humanity. 

Old Mar], with that keenness of mental vision which- be- 
longs to the thoroughly experienced in life, saw at a glance, 
through the character of their newly shipped hand, but he 
was too genuinely a bred sailor, to interfere against the 
authority of the skipper, or to submit advice before being 
asked. 

Still, so intense was his antipathy to the new recruit, that 
he might have been observed continually to dog the fellow 
about, and with an eye of insufferable scrutiny. As the green 
hand, in his flimsy way, set to work with the crew on board, 
the burning, lurid expression of mingled indignation and con- 


154 


THE FISHER BOY. 


tempt tliat alternately lighted up the countenance, and then 
lowered over the brow of the old Salt, like the scathing glim- 
mering of a surcharged thunder cloud, was in striking con- 
trast to his usual large and catholic amiability of feeling. 
Despite an iron will, which enabled him ordinarily to check 
his impulses, as with the grip of a vice, the heated caldron of 
his soul would now and then seethe over in some hard ejacu- 
lation, anything but complimentary to the new comer. 

“ Our new hand there isn’t altogether to your liking,” care- 
lessly observed Fishall. 

“ Not a whit,” responded the Salt. 

“ Well, why ?” demanded Fishall, more to draw out his com- 
panion, than to express dissent. 

“There’ll no good come from having that chap aboard, else 
toss me into the sea for a false prophet. Do you not see, that 
his very soul has been gnawed out of him. Nothing left, I 
fancy, but villanous canker sores. He’ll be spitting off his 
rotten notions, after some further acquaintance, you may be 
sure of.” 

“ True, he’s rather rickety looking in the joints ; and a big 
halibut might drag him over the rail ; still I can’t see what 
very great harm he’ll do aboard.” ' 

“ Nothing is it to have such a maggot thrown into one’s 
peck of dirt ? Ah, yes,” he added playfully, “ he may not 
be able to damage us old sinners, but then we must keep the 
boy out of harm’s way.” 

This latter allusion ruffled Fishall’s sensibilities, and it cut 
off further conversation. 

The fitting out finally accomplished, and everything aboard 
and snugly stowed away, all was now ready for the ensuing 
cruise. The deck had been neatly cleaned up, and the little 
Pink looked as tidy as an expectant* country maiden on a 
Saturday afternoon. 


CITY COUSINS. 


155 


Walter bad the fortune of a distant relative in Boston. 
Mrs. Carl, who possessed deeply the refined sentiment of fam- 
ily friendship, reminded her son on parting, of the pleasant 
fact, and putting up his best suit, enjoined on him to be heed- 
ful in calling upon this kinsman, should circumstances allow 
of it. 

As it was yet early in the afternoon, Walter, to whom his 
mother’s every behest had always been as easy as the law of 
love, attired himself as tastefully as might be, and after get- 
ting what directions seemed fit, set-out for the house, yet not 
without a feeling of excessive timidity. 

By persistent inquiry, he found the house, and was re- 
ceived by his friends with expressions of agreeable surprise. 
Indeed, these city cousins literally showered the boy with af- 
fable attentions, and on his taking leave, bestowed their best 
wishes for his success, with the cordial solicitation that he 
would not fail to write to them, whenever convenient. 

He had now only to return to the vessel. But in doing 
this, his good genii, that had so graciously guided him the 
evening before, seemed now to have forsaken him. With the 
illusory confidence of youth, he resolved upon getting back to 
the Pink without for once inquiring. So striking off in what 
seemed the right direction, he pursued his way with quick and 
•confident step. 

On and on he wended, but objects grew more and more 
strange in appearance, until out he bolted upon a long bridge. 

Nothing disheartened, around he wheeled, and set off in 
another direction, but after much walking, he found himself 
again at a bridge, in another quarter of the city. He was 
now enough humiliated, to deign inquiring his way. What 
was his surprise on being told that Lewis’s Wharf, where the 
Pink lay, was away off* at the opposite side of the city. 
Once more he set out in the direction given him, but his 


156 


THE FISHER BOY. 


treacherous little brain proved again at fault, and round and 
round he roamed, until he found himself in a perfect maze of 
bewilderment. 

The shades of night began to fall, and a darkness as palpa- 
ble was fast gathering around his spirits ; when while thread-, 
ing a new street, whom should he bolt upon but Winthread, 
their new hand. Hardly anything could have brought him a 
more vivid glow of delight. The very being whom the day 
before he had loathed, now burst upon his joyful gaze, in 
grateful welcome. 

Such is the force of adversity, to change the eye lens of 
feeling! With the confiding air of youth, the boy seized 
eagerly the hand of Winthread, and pressed it aflTectionately, 
begging at the same time to be shown the way to the Pink. 

The man with a bitter smile assented, but muttered in a 
hollow voice, that seemed to come from the caverns of ruin, 
that he must first call at a house near by. 

Walter suspecting no evil, followed on, although the 
strange air of Winthread gave the boy a slight sense of un- 
easiness. 

Winthread led the way until they came to what appeared 
An unfrequented street, with houses of a somewhat pretentious 
style, but rather dilapidated in appearance. To one of these 
they at length approached a deep doorway, in which stood . 
leaning against a pillar, a female, whose slight form was par- 
tially revealed by a pale light that flickered from a lantern, 
suspended from the ceiling of the archway over the door- 
steps. She greeted Winthread as he came up, with a few 
sentences, coarse, familiar, and jocose ; and then bandying an ■ 
epithet or two of double meaning, wafted him with her white 
plump hand into the house. Her demeanor toward Walter 
was softened to greater feminine propriety, still it failed to 
inspire him with that divine emotion, which the mere pres- 


A NEW SCENE. 


157 


ence of women, rarely fails to awaken in the breast of guile- 
less youth. 

On entering, Walter lost sight of Win thread, and saw him 
not again in the house. But another young female of win- 
ning address appeared before the boy, and after leading 
blithely the way through a dimly lighted hall, up a crooked 
stairway, ushered him into a spacious saloon. It was very 
brilliantly lighted, and although a practised eye might have 
recognized a soiled carpet, defaced and ill-assorted furniture, 
yet to the rustic gaze of Walter, the effect was dazzling. A 
bevy of females were in the room, varying from sixteen or so, 
to an age unmentionable. There were some among them 
possessing features of fine mould, but with all there was a 
lack more or less striking of that sweet spiritual purity which 
is the fragrance of the female face. Their dress flauntingly 
bedecked, seemed but the bawdy colors of a prurient Fancy. 
Some were lounging in voluptuous posture, upon chairs, sofas, 
or ottomans, some leaning mechanically against rose-wood 
tables or marble mantels, looking with vacant stare at some 
trivial Object, while others m a defiant ease of air, were saun- 
tering up and down the room. Walter tremblingly took a 
seat. No one accosted him, and he remained a brief space, a 
silent, though not inattentive spectator. His entrance served 
to give a flush of movement to the throng, but it was rather 
the temporary acceleration of a waning pulse, than the strong 
glow of Nature. 

Presently two females sprang to their feet, and commenced 
a striding promenade around the room ; two others struck up 
a pert, gossiping chat ; and all in one way or another, essayed 
to attract attention, and display coquettishly their persons. 
Now, one sprang to the piano forte, and commenced running 
her fingers over the keys in a kind of mock agility, another 
rushed to her side, and came out with a saucy ditty, while the 

14 


158 


THE FISHER BOY. 


former thummed in a laughable accompaniment. This over, 
the entire company circled in a general promenade. A fast 
miss now got possession of the instrument, and drummed out 
a thread-bare tune, throwing in occasional flourishes, by way 
of episode. The rest paired off for a cotillon, a requisite 
number assuming the part of gentlemen gallants ; and it must 
be confessed that these performed their parts, if not with 
grace, at least wdth adroitness. The cotillon over, they all 
subsided into seats, and broke out into a merry bandying col- 
oquy, accompanied by awry postures, and double entendre 
expressions. 

All this time, Walter looked on in dumb confusion. Where 
was he ? What could be the meaning of what he saw ? He could 
not penetrate the cloud of a mystery that hung • around him, 
yet the voice of Nature whispered “ that all is not right.” A 
moral disquietude possessed him. Sentiment became shocked. 
F eeling turned into disgust. And even Sense turned aside in 
loathing. With the fires of youth glowing in his soul and 
keenly susceptible to the power of female charms, all their 
low arts, their gross display, awoke no agreeable emotion 
within him. On the contrary, a painful sense of some great, 
moral derangement, like the unhinging of harmonious nature, 
oppressed him, and his soul turned away in disgust. Thus it 
ever is when purity first encounters debasement. 

He could not penetrate the maze of his situation ; could 
not look through the entanglement of his own feelings, but as 
his reason contemplated the shreds of humanity before him, 
an intuitive finger pointed them but the blackened ruins of 
Nature’s Masterpiece. The fire of destruction had swept 
athwart the ocean of their soul, and had left but charred skele- 
tons of former loveliness. 

When the sun of moral beauty in the human soul has once 
set, how appalling the darkness ! And if that human soul be 


EMBARRASSING PREDICAMENT. 


159 


woman, angelic woman, how dreadful the blackness ! How 
mournful, that celestial beauty can ever be changed to a thing 
the most odious ! and the brighter in glory, the darker in per- 
version. So woman in her native purity, the highest in the 
heaven of moral beauty, when she falls, sinks to the lowest 
hell of degradation. 

In the race of the good, for reaching a higher spiritual mil- 
lennium upon earth, what a hindering load is not that loveliest 
attribute of the female character, changed into a hideous mon- 
ster, and hanging upon the skirts of humanity with clinched 
pertinacity ! 

Finding thus far their arts availless in beguiling the feel- 
ings of the boy, they approached each in turn to secure a per- 
sonal conquest. But their stale efforts only embarrassed the 
boy’s mind. He could not be touched by beings so destitute 
of points of sympathy. 

While thus a prey to a species of tormenting disquietude, 
there suddenly darted through a doorway opposite, a youthful 
figure. She was of a light and graceful form, and most ex- 
quisitely attired. Approaching Walter gracefully, she gently 
laid her hand upon his arm, accosting him in tones so tender 
and moving, that he was instantly enthralled by the spell of 
her presence. In confidential, almost pleading accents, she 
begged that he would follow her to another room, where she 
would entrust him with her secret. 

For a moment he hesitated, under a mingled feeling of 
timidity and suspicion. But glad to be relieved from his 
present awkward predicament, and beguiled it may be, by the 
seductive charm of the fair unknown, he summoned resolution 
and followed on. 

She led the way into a small, but elegantly furnished cham- 
ber, and after closing the door, and handing him a chaii*, 
seated herself by his side. 


IGO 


THE FISHER BOY. 


Her small delicate frame had a fairy grace. Her pure 
classic features breathed the soul of refinement. Instinct with 
tenderness seemed her speaking blue eyes. Golden tresses 
fell profusely adown her swan-like neck, and rested upon al 
bust as white as the lily. A gauze mantle of silvery hue ' 
flowed gracefully from her handsomely turned shoulders, re- 
vealing a bust of exquisite symmetry, and an arm and hand 
of voluptuous mould. From under her pendent skirt peeped 
a dainty foot. A single brilliant pinned her scarf, and an- 
other rayed from the velvet band that bound her forehead. 

Walter could not but be captivated in the presence of such 
fascinating beauty, and when he felt her warm breath redo- 
lent with passion upon his cheek, witnessed her soft bosom 
palpitate with wild emotion, looked into the countenance of 
the girl lit up with intense radiance, a paroxysm of emotion 
swept over him. 

Taking his hand in hers, and bending close down to him, 
“ Listen,” said the fair stranger. “ I am an orphan. My 
guardian thwarted my will, and I fled his roof. The young 
man in whom I confided, betrayed my confidence. I was en- 
trapped and led to this house, by an agency unknown to me. 
I have now no more to hope for from society. Yet I feel an 
unconquerable craving for companionship, Tor sympathy, for 
love. There is here for me no congeniality. I would fly this 
place. Take me hence. Be my protector. Lead me whither 
you will, and take my all, fortune, heart, destiny. Oh do not 
hesitate. Think me not polluted. I am pure, at least in heart, 
Heaven knows. 

And as the eye of the excited girl, melting with beseeching 
tenderness, fell upon his, the electric glance with her appeal- 
ing words, aroused all the heroic and generous in his nature. 
Springing upon his feet, under the impulse of enthusiasm, he 
felt as if he could join his destiny with hers, and with the 


A STREET ENCOUNTER. 


161 


fair girl whither she listed. Almost delirious with emotion, he 
sauntered, unconscious of his movements, towards the window, 
but his eye turning out doorward, what did it first fall upon, but 
the same form that he saw last at his grandfather’s, and which 
had haunted, at times, his imagination ever since ! It stood 
motionless in an angle of the court, partially enveloped in the 
gray folds of twilight. He was struck petrified ; but this new 
vision dissolved as with a magic touch, the illusive emotion 
excited by the fair girl near him. And in its stead, there 
arose before his distracted vision, the image of his dear 
mother, in calm, admonitive air ; and her closing impressive 
words seemed to issue from her lips, and fall in healing ac- 
cents upon his troubled soul. “ Beware of false appearances. 
Be true to yourself, to your mother, your God.” The fetters 
of his soul were instantly broken. A new perception dawned 
upon him. A wise resolution sprang up in his breast. Bow- 
ing to the lady, he left the room, descended the stairway, and 
was in a moment upon the pavement. The figure that he 
expected to encounter was nowhere to be seen, but as he felt 
the air of heaven, a mountain load seemed lifted from his 
bosom. 

Proceeding on, his eye caught the figure of a stalwart man 
making rapid strides towards him. As the approaching per- 
son passed a street lamp, a gleam of light therefrom shot upon 
his face, and revealed the well known features of Old Marl. 
With a bound of joy, the boy sprang to the side of the faithful 
sailor, but how confounded was he to find his welcome friend 
barely to notice him. He seemed, on the contrary, engrossed 
with some object behind the boy. Turning around, Walter 
perceived Winthread coming up. 

“Aye,. this is your game,” roared out the Old Salt, a dark 
cloud lowering over his jagged features. “ Well, I fancied as 
much. You’d fetch down the boy into your own muddy 
14 ^ 


162 


^THE FISHER BOY. 


slough, eh ? I say,” he bellowed, raising his voice to thunder 
tones. “ The knot of the hangman under your left ear would 
be none' to good for you, and I’ve more than half a mind to 
give you a stroke of introduction to the place. 

Stung with these words, Winthread sprang forward and 
struck the sailor a passionate blow in the face. Aroused to 
the quick, the latter squared off, and dealt his combatant such 
a blow as to fell the other flat upon the pavement. The 
stroke was a fearful one, and Winthread lay prostrate and 
bleeding profusely. The belligerent thus summarily van- 
quished, the current of the sailor’s passion, as if suddenly 
checked, was overflowing him with remorse. Old Marl was 
first at the side of the wounded man. Raising his head in his 
arms, with the tenderness of a woman, he endeavored to assuage 
his hurt. 

The crowd soon began gathering, but not knowing who had 
given the blow, they could but little more than express sym- 
pathy with the suffering man, and breathe imprecations 
against the inhuman author, as it seemed, of the atrocious 
mischief. 

Presently, a watchman was seen pressing through the 
crowd, with an earnest, authoritative air. With the aid of 
Marl, he hurried off the bleeding man to a neighboring 
apothecary’s, where cordials were administered, and his 
bruises assuaged. 

All this time, the attentions of Marl were those of a de- 
voted wife. He seemed absolutely to forget himself in fervid 
sympathy with the suffering man. He would not leave him, 
until self-possession was regained, and then slipping his purse 
into the hands of the watchman, he took of Winthread an af- 
fectionate leave. 

During the whole scene, there was not a word or sign of 
upbraiding on the part of Winthread, towards his malefactor. 


SELF-REPROOF. 


163 


The conviction of having richly deserved his fate, and espe- 
cially the overflowing goodness of the veteran sailor quite dis- 
armed him of a feeling for reproach. 

If men for the most part come to hate those whom they 
have injured, there are natures so thoroughly honest, as to 
crave the necessity, of making reparation for what they may 
have destroyed. 

On their way to the vessel. Old Marl preserved a dogged 
silence. This dark, moody air, hung like a cloud of terror 
over the boy. He felt conscious of having been the occasion 
of it ; and his feelings were not unlike those of the young 
wife who feels for the first time the frown of the man, in 
whom her all is staked for life. 


CHAPTER X. 


“ Though at times my spirit fails me, 

And the bitter tear-drops fall, 

Though my lot is hard and lonely. 

Yet I hope — I hope through all.” 

Trih morning dawned with a light wind creeping rippingly 
adown the stream. The crew responded with alacrity to the 
call of all hands ; and in a jiffy ^ to use the quaint style of 
Fishall, the mindful little Pink with sails hanging like the 
trowsers of a country lad, just decorated for a rural party, 
w^as noiselessly gliding out of the harbor. 

None more glad to be rid of the glare and dust of the big 
city, than the fisherman. Its eddying current of intense arti- 
ficial life bewilders, and its smoky, choking heavens, suffocates 
his simple nature. Well may he hail a return to the expanse 
and freedom of ocean with feelings of fresh buoyancy. 

Lolling upon the deck, or reclining upon hatch-way, kid, 
or railing, each one carelessly lay, contemplating with tran- 
quil delight, the animated scene unrolling around them. The 
resounding city with its forests of masts, its glittering spires, 
and mountain dome, were giddily receding in the distance. 
Off to the left, lay several huge naval hulks, sluggishly moored 
upon the fiat waters, like so many surly chained mastiffs, 
awaiting some dire opportunity. Here and there an eleva- 
tion was decked by some more pretentious edifice, serving as 
a land-mark to the inquiring eye. Before them rose a gal- 
axy of islands, marking a beautiful labyrinth with the waters, 

( 164 ) 


ENCOUNTER WITH A MAN-OF-WAR. 


165 


all mantling in the deepest flush of May. Over all were 
showering the golden rays of the rising sun, which with the 
graceful sinuosities of the harbor, and the illusory movement 
of the diflerent objects upon the shore, filled the mind of the 
beholder with the most agreeable charm imaginable. 

“ Nicks’s Mate. Do you know boy what that means ? Eh ? 
No ? Well, ’tis the place where a bloody fellow by the name 
of Nicks, hung his mate,” quoth Loggy, turning towards Wal- 
ter- with a quizzing look. 

“Any more of the same sort,” muttered Marl, sarcasti- 
cally. 

' “ Not exactly, but I know of a good one though, that hap- 
pened about here,” replied the fisherman. 

“ Then let’s have it,” returned the sailor. 

“Well, ’twas about Dick Garth wright, or Dick, as he was 
simply called. He was a hard customer, and cut up many a 
wild trick with the English. And if I were to tell all the 
stories I’ve heard about him, ’twould fill a book.” 

“ No matter about the introduction,” shouted a half-a-dozen 
voices, “ let’s have the story.” 

“Well, you must know,” continued Loggy, “that Dick en- 
gaged for a living, in whatever turned up best. It made little 
difference to him, so long as things went to his mind, but 
when they didn’t, he was off, like an unbroke colt. 

“ Well, once in tne time of the old war, he found himself 
aboard a wee Pink-stern a fishing. They were at this time 
off Cape Cod. It was foggy, and thick, too, as mud. The 
crew were idly at the rail, and they were just talking over 
the chances of the war, when halloa, there broke out hard 
upon them, a British ship of war. She showed a double row 
of teeth, and the men aboard were as thick as pismires upon 
a sand-hill. To teU the truth, he was a saucy looking chap, 
and every man’s hair stood right on eend. But when he ran 


166 


THE FISHER BOY. 


up the English ensign, and fired a gun, the ball of which 
went whizzing over their heads, and rattling through the rig- 
ging, like a scared partridge, their skin fairly crawled on 
their flesh. 

“ The enemy sent a boat aboard, and offered to let them go 
free, if one of the crew would pilot them into Boston Harbor. 
At this, all were struck dumb with fear. Boston, a little 
while before, had been in the hands of the British, but now 
the Americans had again gotten possession. If the truth 
should be let out, more than likely they would be seized, their 
vessel scuttled, and they themselves sent to Dartmoor Prison. 
On the other hand, whichever should stand pilot, would be 
pretty sure to get strung up to the yard arm for his pains, 
when it should really come out which party held Boston. 

“ But Dick didn’t know what it was to be afraid. To find 
himself in some strange scrape, and then by some hocus 
pocus, work himself out, was just what he most liked. So he 
stepped forward and volunteered. The British boat now re- 
turned, and the ship squared away for Boston Harbor. 

“ Dick was a droll fellow, and as soon as he got aboard, be- 
gan pacing the quarter-deck with a look of as much self-con- 
sequence, as if he had been the commodore himself. The 
commander of course didn’t like this any too well, but Dick 
told him broadly, that Dick Carthwright happened to be cap- 
tain of that ship. Pretty soon the commander gave off some 
general order, when Dick stepped up to him, and told him 
plainly, that if another order was given off without his con- 
sent, he would run them straight upon the first rock they 
should come up with. This threw the Englishman into a 
dreadful rage, and he drew his sword. But Dick was not so 
easily frightened. He ran off a string of such awful oaths, as 
made the Englishman, even, tremble. Then throwing off his 
boots and pea-jacket, with a ripping oath he swore he would 


A PRIZE. 


167 


jump overboard and swim ashore, if lie couldn’t have entire 
command of the ship. Tliis did the cure. The commander 
fancying he’d got some Yankee water-witch aboard, and 
thinking it best not to lose his pilot, gave in. 

“ All went smoothly afterward, Dick walked side by side 
with the commander, spinning him long yarns about America 
and the Revolution. Of course he took care to tickle the 
Englishman’s vanity, and in a little while they were as famil- 
iar 'as old cronies. 

“ The fog now broke away, and the ship was fast coming 
up with the islands. Dick hit upon taking her in by a chan- 
nel that would not let the Englishman see the American 
colors upon the fort, until it was too late. He was careful to 
keep the ship chock upon the leeward side of the channel. 

“Presently they caught the sight of the American flag 
floating over the fort. The captain saw it first, and he was 
like a wild man.” 

“ American colors,” he screamed. “ Then they’ve retaken 
Boston. What shall we do ? ” All the time looking half 
crazy. 

“ So they have^'* shouted Dick, appearing greatly aston- 
ished. “Then we must back out of this in double quick 
time.” 

“ Heave about ? ” inquired the captain. 

“ No, not water enough,” bawled Dick, “ must wear ship. 
Man your weather-braces, hard starboard your helm,” shouted 
Dick. The captain roared out the command after him. 

All was alive. The big ship slowly turned upon her heel, 
but by the time she had got fairly before the wind, stram 
she struck upon the bottom. The captain was struck speech- 
less. 

They began at once to fire from the fort, and a barge was 
seen approaching. 


168 


THE FISHER EOT. 


“ What can I do ? ” said the captain. 

“ Do ? give me your sword and papers, and go below, and 
I’ll take care of your ship,” replied Dick. 

The captain at length yielded. The barge soon came up. 

“ Who commands that ship ? ” roared out the officer. 

“ I do,” shouted Dick. 

“ Who is I ? ” bawled the officer, 

“ Dick Carthwright.” 

“ Then, Captain Dick Carthwright, haul down your 
colors.” 

This was a capital oversight in Dick. If he had at first 
doused the English flag, and run up the American instead, he 
could have held the vessel. Still, he stuck to it, that the ves- 
sel belonged to him. The government offered to allow him a 
part of the prize, and no small one was it either — a transport 
ship, loaded with all sorts of supplies for their army. But no, 
Dick would have the whole or none. And he lost the whole ; 
for what’s the use battling with Uncle Sam.” 

“ A bran new story that,” muttered Marl. “ Never heard it 
before, nor read it, not even in Barber’s Historical Collection 
of Massachusetts.” 

“ But ’tis true, every word of it,” replied the fisherman, a 
little warmed up, by the allusion of Marl. “ I’ve heard the 
old folks tell it a hundred times ; besides a great many others 
just as good, about our forefathers, and the pranks they cut 
up with the British. But they don’t always get the best 
things into books.” 

“ True, true, you’re more than half right there,” replied 
Marl. “ Your book writers are more than half the time a 
flimsy pack, but green hands after all aboard the ship of life. 
The real sailors, the men that have had a touch of expe- 
rience, have passed through the needle’s eye of trial, are a 
little ripe in first hand knowledge, and could thus give us 


WRITING BOOKS. 


169 


something worth while to read, because they are not up to 
the trick of composition, have to remain dumb, and the field 
is left to a set of mountebanks, who, because they happen to 
have the knack of spinning a yarn, according to the rules of 
the schools, set themselves up as our high priests. But their 
manufactures are more likely than not, wish-a-washy stuff, 
either the rehashed notions of others, or the flimsy vagaries 
of their own feeble fancies. But ’tis little bowing of the knee 
that these liveried preachers get from me. Their dainty sen- 
tences are too much like the glove-tipped fingers of an empty 
pated fop. Give me the hearty grasp of a full soul, that has 
a ring to it that sends a tingle to your fingers’ ends.” 

“ Why don’t you write a book, Mr. Marlboro ? ” exclaimed 
Walter, his face brightening up, under the double blaze of 
timidity and a generous suggestion. “ Surely you ’ve seen 
enough of the world, and we all know how well you can paint 
up things.” 

But the boy felt this to be a wide latitude of familiarity, he 
was taking with the sailor, for whom he still had a feeling of 
awe, and he turned hesitatingly toward the furrowed face of 
Marl, to divine how this boldness would be received. 

At this unexpected compliment, the susceptible sailor drew 
up his body like a basking alligator on feeling the warm sun, 
shifted his quid of tobacco to the other cheek, threw a serio- 
comic glance at the boy, while a merry twinkle danced in his 
eye. 

“ I write a book — I ? Why not bid a Polar bear dance 
a hornpipe.” Then resuming a thoughtful gravity, his coun- 
tenance, after passing through several hues of emotion, finally 
blazed up with a radiance that betokened the consciousness of 
a divinity within; that the feeling of capability had perched 
upon the sunlit peak of his soul. 

“ Ah, my boy, this writing a book, is, I fancy, something 

15 


170 


THE FISHER BOY. 


like a voyage of discovery — sure to turn out in the end, a 
long voyage, and a hard one. First, comes the. tedious ap- 
prenticeship to get the trick of composition, as I have said. 
Meanwhile, every nook of the universe must be visited for 
images, else your style will prove as barren as a Scotch 
heath. Then comes the everlasting labor of composition, in 
which you must stick close to the line of thought, no matter 
how many bright scenes tempt you aside ; and keep forever 
pushing on, no matter how bitterly jaded nature cries stop 
and refresh yourself. 

“ Nor is this all. The prodigious travail of composition over, 
a publisher is to be found. One could no more hope to "get 
along without this fore-topsail agency, than a green captain 
might expect to without an owner. Now, this hitch in the 
becket is not so easy to be taken ; for the small fry of pub- 
lishers would be of puny force in helping to launch your 
newly freighted craft upon the tide of success ; and as for the 
larger and better-fed gentry of the tribe, they are rather 
chary how they nibble at a new bait. But if one of these 
latter should condescend to take you under the glossy folds of 
his wings, and then vague fortune should fall into the humor 
of sounding you a blast from her conch, these gents are none 
too dainty to carve for themselves the lion’s share, and leave 
you the bones for picking. 

“ Well, a publisher hitched to your interest, the next is the 
dread of running the gauntlet of the press. Nor is this a 
slight affair either. For although these - gentlemen of the 
quill are now-a-days tolerably civil, yet now and then one 
does not hesitate to give a cut of the lash, if only for the fun 
of it, or to try his knack at swinging the whip. 

“At last comes the dear good pubhc itself. And with them 
it is very much a matter of whim. You can no more tell how 
the popular gale is going to blow, than you can foretell the 




George’s bank. 171 

weather in the Gulf-Stream. Some very good books have 
fallen dead-born from the press, while many an indifferent 
volume has had the good luck to fire ablaze the four quarters 
of the world. But where one volume wins its way to fame, 
there are ten that moulder in the vaults of the publisher’s 
warehouse. So you see, my lad, ’tis a long, rough, uncertain 
and weary load, from the setting out, when you first dip pen 
into inkstand, and the reaching of the goal, when you can put 
the cash into your pocket.” 

But it must be so glorious,” mused the boy, “ to find one’s 
oelf a^l of a sudden famous ; to feel that one is being read 
by the world, that his admirers are counted by the thousands, 
that he is all at once greatly multiplied.” 

True,” responded Marl, “ but ’tis very much a lottery ; 
and the chances are greatly against you ; and if ’tis a blank 
you dmw, after so much toil, how miserable is the feeling ! ” 

The cook here shouted out, “ Sate, ye,” a sound that cut 
short further argument. 

The Pink continued ploughing her way under a brisk south- 
west breeze, until they struck soundings on George’s Bank. 
Here they made a trial for two or three days, sometimes 
fishing at anchor, at others adrift, hove to. 

But Walter’s experience while on this bank, was enlivened 
by hardly a single ray of happy impression. The soundings 
were deeper and the fishes larger, than on the shoals, which 
added greatly to the labor and fatigue of hauling the line. 
Then the tide set wildly (it being spring-tide), and, rigmarole- 
like, was ever changing its course, sweeping often quite around 
the compass in the space of twenty-four hours. This caused 
the lines so to stray as to take 150 or 180 fathoms to reach 
bottom. Now, when some lordly fish, or more yet, a mon- 
arch-halibut seized the hook, if he did not snap the line at 
once, and march summarily off with the rest of the craft, it 


172 


THE FISHER BOY. 


would take several hands and a tedious while to worry his 
majesty to the surface, when he would break water a long 
way astern, floundering hitherward reluctantly, reminding 
Walter of the deceptive antics of a bird of his native hills, 
called the killdee, when in fear of losing its eggs or young. 
This incessant sweep of the rapid current upon the watery 
waste, awakened a strange feeling of insecurity in the breast 
of the Fisher Boy, and quite destroyed the sublimity of his 
emotions. 

One day, while standing along by the wind, under a stijff 
breeze, they suddenly shallowed their water, to twenty, fif- 
teen, ten fathoms. . 

“ Breakers ! ” exclaimed Fishall. 

“Ah, sure enough,” joined Loggy, fumbling forward, and 
straining his eyes to get a clearer view. 

All started up, and in a moment were staring in amaze- 
ment. 

There they were, long surges of breaking waves, on the 
weather bow, in reality. Breakers ! out of sight of land, in 
mid ocean as it were, with nothing else around, far and near, 
but an illimitable watery waste ! How desolate, how fearful 
the sentiment it awakened ! 

■ “They must be the shoal water of George’s,” at length 
mused Loggy. “ Well,” he added, “I’ve heard tell a great deal 
about this shoal water, but in all my fishing about here, I 
never saw them before. In fact, I doubted if there were any. 
But there’s no mistake, there they are, and saucy looking 
fellows are they too.” 

Although the breakers were well up to windward, yet the 
current it appeared was sweeping the vessel with so fearful a 
rapidity toward them, that the skipper was obliged to put the 
Pink before the wind, and then she escaped only by the favor 
of a brisk breeze. 


MERRIMENT. 


173 


As they distanced the danger, Marl, in solemn tones, nar- 
rated to the crew the fearful stories of these shoals, that con- 
tinued to haunt the imagination of seamen. In the line of ves- 
sels from Europe and from the East Indies, how many a noble 
ship with all her costly treasure of freight, and her richer 
treasure of human life, may not here have found a watery 
grave, — their skeleton forms tossed endlessly to and fro with 
the shifting sand and ceaseless billow — no inapt emblem of 
the turmoil of human life — until the judgment trump shall 
summon all to appear before the bar of the righteous Judge ! 

The swift tides, the blustering weather, and especially the 
scarcity of fishes on George’s, induced them to try their luck 
elsewhere ; so squaring away, they put the Pink’s bow for 
Brown’s bank. 

On the way, they sounded every now and then, with hooks 
well baited for a trial ; but no signs appeared of fishes, except 
here and there, a veritable green-nose cod, which they hauled 
up, looking an indefatigable worker after muscles. 

Coming to what they thought the best ground, they made a 
searching trial, but evidently what they sought was not there. 

The wind had fallen off to a calm, the ocean become a 
metalic mirror, and the shades of evening began to gather 
around. The crew were lounging promiscuously about the 
vessel, some ensconced in the cabin, others upon deck pen- 
sively contemplating the sad beauties of departing day. 
Loggy alone was at the rail, pertinaciously bobbing for squid. 
At length, some one feeling a little merry, tossed the old 
fisherman a pun; others, one after another, followed suit. 
The example proved contagious, and a lively scene followed. 
It seemed the aim to cover the veteran fisherman with a 
laugh, or perchance dislodge him from the berth he held so 
resolutely ; but at their squibs he only chewed more vehe- 
mently his quid of tobacco ; squirted the juice more copi- 
15 * 


174 


THE FISHER BOY. 


ously, meanwhile, now and then casting at them a loot 
askance, as much as to say, “ Ah, my boys, I’m too old a 
stager to have my head turned by the jokes of youth.” 

But in a little while the tables were most effectually turned. 
‘‘ Squid, 0 ! ” ejaculated Loggy, at the same time jerking one 
over the rail by way of corroboration. “ Squid, O ! ” was re- 
peated from mouth to mouth through the vessel. The sound 
ran like wild-fire. If she had just struck upon a rock, the 
excitement could not have been more ai'dent. Intense bustle 
and tumult prevails. Each dives into some nook for his hox^ 
ransacks it for his craft, when one after another come tumbling 
and leaping along, without hat or boots it may be, but burning 
for a hand in the catch. In a moment all are glued to the rail, 
and ’tis sport indeed. 

The squid, or cuttle-fish, is a peculiar species. His head is 
terminated by long feelers, and for weapon of defence, he 
secretes a bottle of inky liquid by means of which, when pur- 
sued, he blackens the waters around, and then darts backward, 
thus easily eluding his enemy. 

He appears of a quiet, inoffensive disposition, but proves to 
have a most voracious appetite; and when the fisherman’s 
gig — consisting of a cilindrical piece of composition of lead 
and pewter, polished bright, attached by the upper end to a 
line, and at the lower, having pins carefully lashed around it, 
reversed as hooks — is bobbing up and down, mistaking it 
doubtless for a nice, shining fish of prey, he seizes it vora- 
ciously, and is drawn on board by willing hands. 

The squid is deemed most capital bait. As many as twenty 
fishes, it is said, have been exchanged for a single one, by 
some shrewd old fisherman, used to tip the points of the hooks 
after stringing on the other bait. Hence, no possible event is 
so calculated to awaken from their habitual lethargy a fishing 
crew, and precipitate one and all headlong toward the rail, as 


CATCHING SQUID. 


175 


if the very furies were in possession of them, as the cry of 

Squid, O.” Then this unique fish, like an earnest nature, 
seizes the hook quietly, but with a will ; and what adds fun to 
catching them is, that they are wont to eject their ink bolt into 
the face of their captors, just as he is taking them over the rail. 

The catch was a liberal one ; and under the glow of anima- 
tion the exercise begat, together with the buoyant prospect of 
a good day’s work on the morrow, all were in the liveliest 
mood imaginable. The decks were cleared up with a will ; 
supper was despatched with a double zest. Meanwhile, Loggy 
had cleaned a fine squid, and fiayed him on the coals for a 
rasher ; and all agreed that he well deserved the dainty 
morsel. 

The plentifulness of squid led them to believe that there 
must be herring around ; so they let down carefully their set 
net into the sea, veered it a short distance astern, and then 
hifched the seine to the vessel by a rope. 

It remained calm, the surface of the sea was smooth, and 
the miriad stars, in the soft canopy above, looked sublimely 
down. The gentle liquid flaps of the fishes, as one after 
another became entangled in the meshes of the net, fell softly 
upon Walter’s ear, through the hush of night, and carried his 
mind in holy, pensive thought, back to the recorded scenes 
of the fishermen of Galilee. 

The catch, the next day, did not justify the expectation 
they had reasonably entertained. The presence of live bait 
in profusion, and especially the species which they had so 
abundantly taken, is regarded by the old fishermen, as indica- 
tive of the presence of shoals of voracious fishes, ready to 
grab at anything in the shape of bait ; or, at least, to be the 
immediate harbingers of them. It was evident, then, they 
had only to wait patiently a few days, when full roohi for 
their activity would be found. But the spell of home was 


176 


THE FISHER BOY. 


broken, and hurried away by that impatience which movement 
in itself begets, the skipper ordered the sails to be trimmed 
for pushing further on. 

On and on they stivered, sounding less and less frequently, 
until the monotony of sailing enveloped them. At last, all 
seemed to have become pinioned to their bunks, by that kind 
goddess, Sleep, rarely crawling therefrom except for meals. 
This they called bottling up sleep for future occasion. 

“ Land, O ! ” shouted the helmsman. The cry ran through 
the vessel, and, in a moment, the slumbering crew had broken 
the bonds of Morpheus, and were huddled upon deck, strain- 
ing their eyes, some to make out the precise locality of the 
coast, and others to feast the sense upon the banquet of a 
novel scene. The first sight of land at sea is a blessed 
vision. 

It proved to be the Eastern Coast. A brisk wind was 
blowing in upon the land ; and the chopping waves thwarted 
by the adverse current, were so considerable as to give an 
unusually dizzying motion to the vessel. The land which at 
first seemed to touch the sky, as they neared, swelled out 
through the translucent atmosphere, having a mellow, dreamy 
look, well calculated to touch in a lively manner the Fancy. 
The novel scene dissipated for the moment the gnawing 
home-sickness of Walter, and filled him with intense curios- 
ity. 

On they went, ploughing their way down along the coast. 
The next morning the skipper judged himself off the outward 
entrance of the gut of Canso. The vessel was now headed in 
for land. They soon rounded in by a jagged promontory, 
and after crossing a deep bay, they entered a narrow strait, 
and finally came to in a cosy little cove near the shore. The 
change from the tumbling motion of the vessel at sea, and the 
raw ocean breeze, to the quiet gliding motion upon the sur- 


ENGLISH OFFICIALS. 


177 


face of the land-locked waters, fanned by the soft impregnated 
air from dale and forest, all enlivened by the novel and va- 
riegated scenery by which they were surrounded, was sweetly 
refreshing to the Fisher Boy. 

Scarcely anchored, and the sails furled, or “the vessel 
snugly tied up,” in the quaint language of Marl, — when a 
small black boat was seen approaching from the shore. On 
reaching the vessel, three men jumped on board ; and one 
raising his hat to the skipper, accosted him with an air of 
mingled authority and respect. They proved to be rather 
uncouth specimens of English Officials, or as Marl had it, 
“ the fag end of John Bull.” They had certainly a blousy, 
besotted look, and a surly filching manner, but there was a 
tone of manly frankness in the few jerked, growling sentences 
the^ condescended to give from time to time, that went far to 
redeem the otherwise unamiable impression they left. Still, a 
rude, outlandish style proved them but rough beings, plants 
that had vegetated outside the flowery garden of the world’s 
intercourse. They had come in the dignity of the English 
crown to see that no article subject to duty was on board. 
But after receiving from the skipper a stiff glass or two of 
grog, a junk of pork, and a parcel of tobacco, they deemed it 
hardly worth while to institute further search. They believed 
on the whole, the Yankees too honest to be caught smuggling ; 
so with a hearty blessing upon the whole Yankee nation, they 
took a gracious leave. 

The next forenoon was spent ashore by a part of the crew, 
some in filling water, others in cutting poles for gaff handles, 
etc. This over, all were let loose for relaxation. The license 
was lustily enjoyed. Running, jumping, leaping, scrambling 
over rocks, and such like athletics as give the limbs a vigorous 
pleasure, after being tied to confined quarters, were promis- 
cuously indulged. Walter among the rest felt a novel pleas- 


178 


THE FISHER BOY. 


ure in bounding so fleetly over the bosom of mother earth, and 
drinking in the incense of her fragrant breath. Many a feat 
was achieved that betokened agility, and many a prank cut, 
that evinced humor, by the jovial crew. 

After dinner the anchor was got at once, and the Pink, 
borne by a propitious breeze, glided amidst the illusive land 
like a fairy ; and when the sun plunged his fiery disc into the 
rolling ocean, they were well out into the beautiful strait of 
Northumberland. 


CHAPTER XI. 


“ Calamity is man’s true touchstone.” 

Beaumont and Fletcheb. 

“ Thump, thump, thump,” came heavily down the large end 
of a handspike upon the deck before the gangway. “All 
hands ahoy. Fish, O ! Fish, O ! They are here, double 
game twice running,” hurriedly bawled Fishall, — and he was 
offjh a twinkling, sawing away again at his line. The crew 
needed no second call this time. The inspiring sound of 
“ Fish, O,” the balmy state from enjoyed rest, the fresh feel- 
ing from pleasant scenes passed through, all helped forward a 
vigor, that sent them bounding up the gangway, most eager 
to feel the first pulsation of success. 

In a moment, all were at the rail, in the highest ardor of 
activity. The completest silence reigned, as if utterance had 
seethed out amid the fervor of intense eagerness. Fishall 
with hat and jacket off, and sleeves rolled up, was bending to 
the sport, with a freedom, agility, and precision, that be- 
tokened the adroit sportsman. 

The broad bosom of the sea, slightly rippled by a feeble, 
penetrating breeze, presented an aspect of quiet serenity. 
One or two large ships well in the offing to the North, were 
pursuing their solitary way, seeming on the very verge of 
civilization. The atmosphere was of that cold transparency 
seen in high latitudes. But when the aun sprang from his 

( 179 ) 


180 


THE FlSIlEll EOT. 


briny couch, and flung his radiance over the broad expanse, 
all around shone, as if touched with a magic pencil. 

Still, to the sensitive imagination of Walter, it seemed that 
he had been flung to another sphere, unknown to the soft, 
green earth of his home ; and when the images of his mother, 
and loved ones came thronging upon his mind, he could not 
but suppress a tear of regret. But he was quick to dissemble 
the tender sentiment : and he threw himself into the ardor of 
activity, as if his heart were in the catch, instead of far away 
amid the scenes of his youth. 

The water here was so shallow, not more than thirty fath- 
oms, and the bite so lively and uniform, that ere the morning 
was far advanced, each had filled his kid, and was' counting 
out upon deck, keeping his own tally. 

There lay the handsome cod, vanquished by the art of man, 
shorn of the glory of their native element, flapping and gasp- 
ing in the fierce rays of the rising sun, their crimson-arched 
gills, palpitating in the keen anguish of a fatal death-throe. 
Cruel, avaricious man ! if every pang thou hast inflicted upon 
mute suffering creation, were to. rise up in judgment against 
thee, what a mountain of condemnation would impend over 
thy guilty head. 

But sentiment aside, what exercise more inspiriting and 
withal more healthful, than taking codfish with hook and line. 

The firm, erect, well poised attitude in hauling, the vigor- 
ous action of the muscles of the chest and arms, combine to 
develop muscular energy, while the mental stimulus is such 
os to impart that glow of animation without which exercise 
has little efficiency. 

Try it, ye waning mortals, whose sluggish pulse and hectic 
breath show ye alas in the downhill road of life. Throw to 
Uie winds your thousand and one nostrums, and speed to the 
ieck of a fishing vessel. My word for it one trip of hearty 


OVER-WORKING. 


181 


fishing life, will more avail to restore that blessed boon, health, 
than all the endeavors of a score of the most sagacious of the 
sons of Esculapius. 

The excitement became so general (perhaps the conditional 
promise of a new hat in the fall, contributed its share of influ- 
ence) as to draw the cook likewise into the sport, which per- 
sonage divided most devotedly his time between his line and 
the pot. 

Hence, late it was before the greeting sound of breakfast 
came forth ; and then even the usual scrambling toward the 
gangway did not take place. An earnest feeling held hunger 
at the time at bay. Yet at length one after another stole off 
below, snatched a bite, and was so quickly back to his line, as 
to have made it hardly possible to be missed. The genius of 
Yankee greed-getting could hardly have exacted anything 
more faithful. 

Early in the afternoon, the bite began to slacken. But the 
skipper instead of taking it moderately in the beginning — 
that is, knocking off in season to complete dressing down be- 
fore night, pursued that very common course of overreaching 
gain, which commonly defeats its own end, — and had the 
crew remain at the rail, ’till sunset. This brought them far 
into the night, before the fishes could be put snugly under the 
deck. Keeping so late hours, might have been borne for one 
night, but it was repeated time and again, fishing all day, and 
dressing half the night, until poor human nature could hardly 
stand up under it longer. 

As for Walter, he came soon to being nearly used up, to em- 
ploy a Hibernianism. The eternal dressing down over, it was 
with much ado, that he could drag his weary limbs down the 
gangway, to the supper table. Here, so complete was physi- 
cal prostration, that as hunger ridden as he was, his spoonful 
of squeal was as likely to be poured into his bosom,- as into 
16 


182 


THE FISHER BOY. 


his mouth, to the no little merriment of the crew, — who, by 
the by, could not boast of being greatly more wakeful than 
the boy. 

Supper over, it was a joyful leap into his bunk, where 
sweet slumber awaited him for a soft, delicious, but firm em- 
brace. From touching his birth, ’till morning, he knew no 
more. All was glorious oblivion. 

But to muster at the cry of all hands in the morning. 
Aye, that was the rub. Eyes glued in sleep, fingers sore, 
swollen, and the joints stiff as an iron poker, the body lame 
from over exertion, and the whole sense steeped in slumber, 
as if rolling in the waves of Lethe. Indeed, the effort was 
next to impossible. 

Akin to this in trial, was the turning out in the night to 
stand watch. At so high latitude in mid-summer, the nights 
were at most, but short. They were moreover greatly clipped 
by the dressings down, which oftener than' otherwise ran into 
midnight. So that with the number of hands on board, ex- 
tending nearly to a baker’s dozen, the watch came round to 
each only at long intervals. Yet those intervals were far too 
short for Walter. 

The duty of calling Walter, could not but tax very sorely 
the patience of the unlucky mortal whose watch preceded the 
boy’s. For to speak the sleeper’s name, or even shake him 
pretty vigorously by the collar, had no more effect than it 
would to shout in the ear of a deaf sunfish. The only way 
that proved effectual in arousing the boy, was to tumble him 
out of his bunk, give him a stout shaking upon the chest ; or, 
perchance, drag him upon deck into the midnight air. 

The man who called Walter, took care always before going 
below, to reiterate the injunction, to keep a bright look out for 
ships that were crossing in their wake up and down the St. 
Lawrence. But one of these huge sailing leviathans, might 


STANDING WATCH AT NIGHT. 


183 


at any time have swallowed the tiny Pink Stern, without 
the boy’s being a whit wiser for the incident, so completely 
did he become in a moment after enwrapped in the folds of 
slumber. 

Moreover, whenever his watch came in the night, the rest 
of the crew had good reason to thank the boy for the luxury 
of a morning doze. For not only were the watchers that fol- 
lowed left to slumber on, but more likely than not the sun 
would get well up the arch before there was any mustering at 
all, and then not unless some veteran fisherman had awaked 
of himself, and so aroused the others. 

In this stupor of sleep, Walter might have remained till the 
crack of doom, but for some overmastering agency. This 
sometimes came in that intolerable thirst, more powerful even 
than the drench of slumber. He would then suddenly awake, 
parched with an excruciating longing for water. 

The oppressive air through which the cabin lamp feebly 
rays, seems like a lurid taper in a damp sepulchre. The hard 
breathings of the slumberers, to say nothing of many a lugu- 
brious sound, falls upon his sense like the spirit of the night- 
mare, and makes him fancy himself in a tomb of resuscitating 
spirits. 

Crawling over old Loggy who lies as inanimate as a dead 
whale, and stumbling at length upon an unwashed tin cup, 
from the cook’s scanty cupboard, he is not long in making 
way to the water-bucket in the dirtiest nook of the cabin, 
thoroughly begrimmed as it is without, and loaded with recre- 
ment within. 

The foetid odor of the water, from lack of ventilation in 
the barrel, and especially the innumerable bits of scum fioat- 
ing thickly through the liquid, would seem to render the 
draught loathsome enough of itself ; but thirst has the power 
to parch up delicacy of taste, and to change the disgusting 


184 


THE FISHER EOT. 


into the grateful. Plow supremely sweet were not those 
draughts ! The nectar of the gods could not have been more 
delicious ! 

For a few days, it had been blowing so brisk a norther, as 
to forbid any attempt at fish-taking. Accordingly, the rail 
was abandoned, and the wee nook of a cabin became for the 
time being their hearth of life. This gave a joyful respite to 
sore fingers and jaded muscles, and the work-ridden crew, 
blessed the god of storms for the boon. It was rough without, 
but balmy repose gilded the horizon within. 

Fishall had the watch on deck. The rest of the crew were 
complacently ensconced in the cabin, when unexpectedly a 
voice shouted at the top of the gangway, 

“ Gone — the rudder’s gone ! Sure’s I’m a living man ; saw 
it sink right out of sight.” 

“ Don’t say,” groaned Loggy, dismally. 

Old Marl darted upon deck, and in a moment returned, 
verifying the astounding intelligence. The crew were struck 
with an amazement bordering upon alarm; and well they 
might be, being as they were, upon a strange coast, more than 
a hundred miles from a convenient harbor, with no rudder to 
their vessel ! Hardly could a situation seem more disheart- 
ening, if not perilous. 

But the skipper seemed not in the least daunted. He had 
schooled himself into the belief, that all things in the end 
work for the best ; and he showed himself in this case, one of 
those very few philosophers whose practice accords with their 
precepts. Still, as he pondered it over, the mortal difficulty 
of getting back to the Gut of Canso, without rudder, stared 
him in the face rather sternly. It seemed very like driving a 
horse tlirough the main street of a populous city, without reins 
to guide. Disquietude weighed all the more heavily, from 
the novelty of their situation. At sea without a rudder I 


AN EXPEDIENT. 


185 


Who had ever heard of a like situation ! Accustomed 
troubles bring accustomed fortitude, but a new difficulty is 
accompanied by a strange feeling of embarrassment, appalling 
to the energies. But obstacles are vanquished by marching 
upon them with a bold step, and the pace forward is quick- 
ened, by the stern necessity which throws us upon the foe 
with no choice of retreat. The skipper and Old Marl, had 
both got in the school of life not a little of that fortitude, that 
meets with calmness a trying situation, strengthened by an 
inward force that rises superior to misfortune. 

As soon as the gale had enough moderated, the anchor was 
weighed, when her bow fell off with a fair wind. Sailing 
before it, like riding down hill, would seem an easy affair. 
And it may be, when one has a firm check-rein to his horse, 
or a sure rudder to the stern of his vessel, but without those 
convenient appendages, it becomes rather an awkward feat. 

After many fruitless attempts to manage the steering of the 
vessel, they finally hit upon the following successful expe- 
dient. The jib and foresail set, the mainsail was hoisted 
partly up. One man then stood with compass before him on 
the hatch, and main-peak halliards in hand. Hoisting the 
peak ever so slightly, caused the vessel to luff ; and lowering 
it again, her bow would fall off. Thus, a tolerably straight 
wake could be made. Whichever way the wind, they found 
by a little judgment in trimming sails, the sprightly craft 
could be steered with wonderful ease. But what put the 
climax to their success, was sailing by the wind ; or more as- 
tonishingly still in beating to windward. This, when it was 
smooth, they could do most admirably. The magic manoeu- 
vre was performed in this wise. The jib and foresheets were 
hauled close aft. The main-sheet left about a point free, 
when the thing of life as if proud of her ability, would glide 
forward, keeping the luff of the mainsail barely lighting in 
16 ^ 


186 


THE FISHER BOY. 


the breeze, and making a wake as direct as the course of the 
wind itself. 

To about ship, they had only to ease off the fore and jib- 
sheets, haul close aft the main-sheet, when the knowing thing 
would turn upon her heel, as pertly as a country maiden in a 
waltz. Indeed, one day in company with a number of ves- 
sels, she outstripped them all in readiness and precision of 
worldng, and left them all ere long well off in the distance to 
the leeward. Not one of these vessels in any probability for 
once imagined that the little craft that had thus so beaten 
them, was destitute of rudder. 

Every one aboard felt, and with good reasc®, a keen glow 
of satisfaction at the striking success they had met with, in 
their very novel mode of managing a vessel. Intense anxiety 
now gave place to serene joy. 

In the rubbish of the world’s doings, there is many a feat 
of skill by humble hands, that needs but a fortunate setting, 
to make it admirably famous. 

“ What’s the use of a helm at all,” at length broke forth 
Fishall, in a gratulatory tone. “ For, without one, we sail 
better it seems, get along faster, and save our trick in the 
bargain. When I build my ship. I’ll leave out the rudder, 
I think. What say you, Mr. Marl ? ” 

“ Well, I’ll hardly go so far as that,” drawled the Salt, 
thoughtfully, “ but I’ll agree, that if Captains would attend 
more closely to trimming sail, there’d be less occasion to find 
fault with helmsmen. Yes,” he added, “ widening in thought, 
I’ll not doubt there’s vastly too much steering in the world — 
too much leaning upon old musty guides, and not enough 
standing upon one’s own royal judgment.” 

“How’s that?” inquired Fishall, evidently a little be- 
wildered by being thus suddenly drawn into the region of 
generahzation. 


MORALIZING. 


187 


“Why,” continued the sailor, “to make the thing more 
clear, there’s your book worm of a student for example. He’s 
forever grubbing away, amid the decayed mould of the past, 
feeding upon defunct notions and exploded theories. True, his 
cranium gets filled, but ’tis with a kind of lumber, that leaves 
his puny soul in but a rickety condition at best. If he’d make 
use of his wasted time, and misspent energies in searching the 
clew to the mysteries to the great, living, beating world 
around him, he’d become for all useful ends, I fancy, quite 
as wise, and, furthermore, would thereby catch a spaih or two 
of vitality to animate his step through this crowded mart of 
life.” 

“ Can you mention another case ? ” inquired the skipper, 
his eyes sparkling with interest. 

“Yes,” replied the sailor, “there’s woman, magnificent 
woman, decking herself in the flimsy trickery of Fashion, 
spreading all canvas to outstrip her sex, and steer 
straight into the port of Matrimony. Can she not per- 
ceive that good sensible man, must look upon all such low 
arts, as the mere scum of vanity ; that his royal nature can 
be brought to love only what is pure, noble, and free of 
guile. 

“ But the very worst steered craft that I know of, is the 
ship of State. Every year or so, likely as not, a green skip- 
per and a bran new crew come aboard, and what with the ig 
norance of their new place, and their vanity of making a show 
of doing something, they bring the good old ship to make but 
a crooked track of it. If the noble craft were left more to 
her own bearings, she’d fetch about a better turn of it, I 
fancy.” 

The attention of the speaker was at this moment drawn off 
by the appearance of a dark cloud rising in the north-western 
horizon. Vivid glimmerings and forked chains of lightning 


188 


THE FISHER BOY. 


would liglit up in rapid succession its sombre lid, and then 
play upon its lowering brow, like fiery spirits caressing the 
sublime Genii of the heavens. 

“A savage looking customer, that,” mused Marl, cast- 
ing doubtful glances, alternately at the cloud, and the 
tiny sails of the vessel. “ A bell weather of the fiock, to 
appearance. ’Twould be on the safe side to dowse our 
calico.” 

The skipper gave prompt orders to take in sail at once. 
The crew, sprang like men who act before the quickening 
menace of danger ; and by the time the canvas was secured, 
the heavens were grimly enshrouded, as with the pall of mid- 
night. The gentle leading breeze against which the vessel 
had borne her way so adroitly, now quietly vanished, as if 
borne off in a winding sheet of death. The calm was stark, 
breathless. The threatening elements like embattled war- 
riors, just on the eve of a terrible onslaught, stood face to 
face, silent, moody, ominous. The stillness was the hush of 
the grave-side. 

In a moment it came ; first, the wind, in a sweeping, furious 
gust ; as if it were about to snatch the mortal breath out of 
one ; then the rain, in driving, pelting, pouring torrents. 
Indeed, it seemed that the very windows of heaven had been 
. pened, and that the Deity had repented himself of having 
vouchsafed to man immunity from another fiood. The deep 
toned thunder roared and bellowed like a maddened bull. It 
commingled with the jarring, frenzied elements, in startling 
confusion, and seemed every moment on the point of breaking 
its chains of confinement, to fall upon the devoted heads of 
all. 

The harpy lightning shot through the wild gloom in fiery 
vividness, leaping from mast to deck with the ferocity of a 
rabid animal. 


A MAN OVERBOARD. 


189 


The peak of the jib had been left standing just to steady 
her before the wind, when under the hurculean force of the 
gale, she flew off with the speed of an arrow, and with a rush 
of motion that actually caught up the breath with intensity of 
thrill. 

Walter had shared largely the evil of that miserable 
dealing with children, which ends in making them afraid 
of their own shadow — not from the kind, common-sense 
philosophy of his mother, but from the silly, superstition 
of early teachers and associates. He could nofc sit with 
quiet nerves at home, amidst the roaring of a violent 
thunder-storm. Wliat then must have been his trepidation at 
sea, with all the elements of terror greatly increased ? But 
he constantly strove with earnest purpose, to get the better 
of this weakness, and, in this instance, he at length so mas- 
tered his quailing emotions, as partially to enjoy the grandeur 
of the scene. 

It was- now evident the craft had got the full weight of the 
gale, and she was careering on before the mighty aerial cur- 
rent in thrilling majesty. Marl was standing near the fore 
shrouds in an attitude of calm contemplation, evidently in that 
entranced state of soul, to which sublime scenes of nature ele- 
vate imperial spirits, when all of a sudden, the stalwart sailor 
fetched a twitch and a writhe, as if shot by the spark of a 
double galvanic battery ; and sending up a shout that was 
heard above even the roar of the tempest, “ Man overboard ! ” 
he sprang abaftward, his eyes wild with excitement, his face 
haggard with intense solicitude, and every limb swelling with 
leaping force. 

Every article of a floating nature that could possibly afford 
a chance boon to the drowning man, was instantly seized and 
thrown into the sea, regardless of its cost or value. The lash- 
ings of the boat stowed amid-ships were cut at a stroke. For- 


190 


THE FISHER BOY. 


tunately at this moment the gale lulled ; the jib was lowered, 
and hoisting the peak of the main-sail brought the Pink head 
to the wind. Overboard now flew the boat, and in leaped 
Marl, Fishall, and another. 

They pulled with frenzied energy toward the lost man. 
Around and around they rowed the conjectured spot where 
he fell, hallooing and shouting till the shades of night began 
to appear. The vessel meanwhile seconded their efforts by 
sailing and tacking near them, and occasionally firing a gun. 
But all was vain. No human figure could be descried ; no 
human voice heard. Nought broke th^ stillness save the 
mocking sound of the clashing waters. It was the silence of 
death. He had gone ; had sunk to rise no more ; his brief 
span was over; his bubble of life burst. How sad, how 
mournful, how solemn ! But a moment before in the full 
energy and young prime of years, without a note of warning, a 
staying hand for kindly succor, or a sympathizing tear to soothe 
the dread passage, he was hurried to that bourne whence no 
traveller returns. 

Surely, “ in life, are we in the midst of death.” 

At length, they returned on board, with heads bent in sol- 
emn dejection upon their breasts ; and with hearts of sadness, 
the vessel was put again upon her course. 

The drowned man, it seemed, went out on the* bowsprit, in 
order to secure more completely the furled part of the jib. 
While returning, his feet slipping from the foot-rope, he drop- 
ped into the water, and was passed over by the vessel. He, 
nevertheless, came up close astern, sprang half his length 
above the surface, throwing up at the same time, his arms in 
a gesture of forlorn distress, accompanied by a cry of anguish, 
so bitter as to pierce to the core the sternest heart. A good 
swimmer, he instinctively struck out toward the vessel, and 
when last seen was buffeting the angry billows with the 
energy of despair. 


A MELANCHOLY NIGHT. 


191 


Ah, what must have been his feelings, when all hope of 
rescue at last faded forever from his vision, — when the stern, 
dreadful reality of a final farewell to earth stared him irre- 
vocably to view, and the horrors of a watery grave closed in 
upon his soul. 

How sad and melancholy hung that night over the 
thoughtful crew ! So sudden, so unexpected a death, in 
their very midst ! One of their little band, a band 
knit closely by the common links of exposure and hard- 
ship ; snatched, as it were, from them, taken just before 
their eyes, in the full flush of life, and hurled without a 
single note of warning, to the surging, angry, relentless bil- 
lows. 

How vividly it impressed them with the uncertain 
tenure of life ! How it quickened their apprehension of 
the element at whose mercy they were floating! With 
what awful terror it clothed the memory of the fatal gale 
which like a stealthy murderer had come so direfully upon 
them. 

The deceased possessed a kind heart, an equable temper, 
and a spirit of faithfulness to duty. Moved by that amiable 
principle of human nature, by which the virtues only of the 
departed are dwelt upon, these rough men, but with hearts of 
woman’s tenderness, had many a good thing to narrate of 
their lost companion. 

But it was a night of harrowing disquietude, especially to 
Walter. The shock of the awful scene continued to agitate 
him like a troubled sea. The imploring attitude of the dying 
man, and above all, that unearthly shriek pressed still upon 
his soul like a haunting incubus. 


CHAPTER Xn. 


Hail, Holy Day ! the blessing from above 
Brightens thy presence like a smile of love, 

Smoothing, like oil upon a stormjiLsea, 

The roughest waves of human destiny — 

Cheering the good, and to the poor oppressed 
Bearing the promise of their heavenly rest/^ 

“ Threading this needle will be no easy matter, I fancy,” 
mused Marl. Indeed, to succeed entering the harbor, did ' 
look, as if it might prove a perplexing feat. True, out in the 
bay, witli a plenty of sea-room, they had contrived well 
enough to get along, but to run in through a narrow winding 
passage, with a strong breeze upon the quarter, was quite a 
different affair. But they had proceeded now quite too far, 
to turn back or even to hesitate. So, by the aid of a couple 
of long oars at the stern, and tending sheets pretty sharply, 
they did succeed in achieving the passage, and soon came 
securely at anchor in the harbor to the no little amazement 
of the inhabitants of the place, who had gathered wonderingly 
upon the shores, to witness so unusual a spectacle as a vessel 
running into their harbor without a rudder. 

Excessively fatigued, all hands turned in early for a sound 
night’s rest ; but before many hours, Walter awakened, and 
found a strange bustling in the cabin. To his amazement the 
vessel was so careened, as to render it impossible standing 
erect upon the floor of the cabin, and the crew generally were 

( 192 ) 


IN PERIL. 


193 


scrambling out of their berths, and making all possible haste 
to reach tlie deck. 

As Walter gained the deck, behold, the vessel so far turned 
over on her side, as to bring the water quite up to the lower 
combing of the hatch-way. Everything loose upon deck had 
either tumbled into the water or floated from off the deck, 
and all swept from sight by the current. The unlucky vessel 
was evidently in imminent peril of upsetting. Partially load- 
ed with fish and salt, she must have sunk direct to the bottom. 
The moment was one, -then, of real alarm. 

But, fortunately, one of the inhabitants ashore happening 
about midnight to pass along the beach toward home, was 
struck by the unhappy predicament of the Pink. Surmising 
the cause, in a friendly spirit he quickly alarmed his neigh- 
bors, who as promptly turned out, and sprang forward to the 
, rescue. Presently, the dark line of the shore seemed crowd- 
ed with forms dimly visible through the gray folds of night, 
suggestive to the imagination of benignant spirits from the 
regions of Pluto. 

Shouting lustily until they had awakened the crew on 
board, like men who apprehend at a glance the secret turn of 
a crisis, they suggested readily the means of relief. A haw- 
ser bent to an anchor ashore, and hitched to the main and fore 
halliards aboard, kept the hapless Pink from turning further 
over until she was righted, and finally floated off by the in- 
coming tide. 

The way in which the vessel evidently fell into the odd 
dilemma was now pointed out to them by the friendly shore- 
men, who, with good reason, congratulated the skipper, upon 
so lucky an escape. A wicked, sunken rock nestled in the 
harbor, over which, during the night, the Pink had swung, 
with the change of wind. On the ebbing of the tide, which 
is not inconsiderable in these latitudes, the keel caught u^oon 
17 


194 


THE FISHER EOT. 


a verge of the rock which tripped the unsuspecting craft, as 
many a storm-beaten mortal, at length moored in self-security 
in some placid harbor of life, is suddenly struck by the fang of 
a secret enemy, at a time when dreaming of no evil. 

Early in the morning, the crew set out in quest of the arti- 
cles that had been swept from the deck of the Pink, in their 
night’s strange vicissitude.- A few of the least valuable of 
these were at once found upon the beach, where they had 
been left, high and dry, by the receding tide. A few others 
were at length discovered, behind hillocks and amid thickets, 
where they had evidently been secreted by covetous hands. 
But of the bulk of the straying articles no clew, whatever, as 
to their whereabouts could be traced. 

What struck the crew as a strange episode, in their search, 
was, that on touching the shore they were greeted by several 
of the same men who had lent them so efficient aid during 
the night just passed ; and who now proffered them the most 
cordial assistance to discover the missing articles, or ferret out 
any one who might have been so base as to steal them. 
They even swore roundly at the inhumanity of any one who 
could think of robbing the stranger and the cast-away. But 
strange to say, it turned out in the sequel, that these very 
persons were, beyond doubt, among the guilty ones ; and that 
this little plausibility was merely a trick, to lead away sus- 
picion by false pretence. 

It is not the least among the anomalies of human character 
that men can be found who, at one moment will pour out their 
sympathies, like water, in succoring a distressed fellow mortal, 
and at the next, rob this brother being of the coat even from 
off his back. Men — shall we call them such ? — who can look 
unaffected upon death itself, if some trivial article of acquisition 
come between them and the dread scene ; can even rifle the 
dead body, cut from the swollen finger of the cold corpse the 


REST IN PROSPECT. 


195 


last simple jewel of affection, the heart-felt token, it may be, 
of a mother’s undying love. But this dire phase of pervert* 
ed human character may too often be met with in any places, 
greatly exposed to shipwreck. It shows the sad depths of 
human degradation to which the morbid passion of gain will 
hurry the soul. 

A rudder was at length with some difficulty completed, and 
securely hung. After being paid for, by a draft upon the 
owners in the States, they cheerily set sail, and ere long, were 
again upon their former fishing ground in the bay. 

Here, the fishes showed no abatement from their former 
eagerness for taking the hook, and all hands soon became 
again dragged down with the toil of catching. 

“ The last fish this week, and I’m only too glad of it,” joy- 
fully broke forth Fishall, as late of a Saturday night his knife 
came down upon the splitting table, with a more lively ring 
than usual. 

The soothing anticipation of the morrow’s rest held a ling- 
ering charm over their minds, and their simple supper was 
despatched with a zest of spirits bordering upon hilarity. 
Even their usual eagerness for retiring was relaxed, as if to 
prolong the present enjoyment of future delight. 

Ah, how grateful upon the jaded spirit of tlie fisherman 
falls the quiet shadows of a more than Cotter’s Saturday night. 
It seems to him as if an angel stooping from heaven, and un- 
locking the huge door barred for six days, by grim Labor, lets 
him into the sweet banquet hall of Nature. 

On awaking the next morning, Walter found all the rest of 
the crew, save the skipper and cook, snoring and puffing in 
their berths, as if struggling for dear life with that old arch 
giant. Slumber, — 

“ Weariness 

Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth 
Finds the down-pillow hard.” 


196 


THE FISHER BOY. 


The skipper, seated upon the narrow end of the transom, 
hear the dingy fire-place, was actually lending a gracious 
hand at getting the breakfast, while glee-hearted Dunder- 
fish, but too glad to be for once relieved from the heat 
and smoke of his everlasting drudgery, and not a little elated 
at the thought of so much dignity gracing his office, was danc- 
ing attendance upon the skipper’s every behest, with all the 
deference and promptitude of a'Tiewly appointed knight 
squire. By his side loomed a couple of kids heaped with 
tempting doughnuts, fried in fresh liver fat, and still the 
fierce work continued to go on. 

In due time, breakfast in full was joyously brought forth 
upon the table. It consisted of stacks of brownly crisped 
nuts, hot wheat bread, butter, nice corned cod boiled, and 
coffee. Surely such a repast might have tempted the dainty 
palate of a king. Then how sweetly inviting must it not have 
been to the gaunt appetite of the squeal-famished crew. How- 
ever stilted philosophy may affect to contemn the pleasures of 
appetite, to a hungry man there are few things in life more 
welcome than a good savory meal. As the grateful odor 
curled up from the smoking viands, the crew were not laggard 
in mustering to the call to breakfast. Out they come rolling 
from their berths, yawning and grunting, fetching that pe- 
culiar kind of grunt which is indicative of inward satisfaction. 
Without giving themselves the trouble of doing their toilet, 
or of even dressing, they squat themselves around the table, 
and commenced without ceremony attacking the breast-work 
of edibles, like men bent upon vanquishing. The scene was 
such as to confound the notions of those fastidious people who 
msist upon morning ablutions, elaborate toilet, and thorough 
mastication at the table. 

Breakfast over, each rolled himself back into his berth in 
order to complete the morning’s doze. And two or three of 


THE SABBATH. 


197 


the crew, under the grip of their somnambulent powers, passed 
off into a profound slumber, that lasted till toward noon. But 
for the most of them, the claims of digestion proved too ex- 
acting ; and after tossing restlessly from side to side, with vain 
effort to court sleep, one after another bolted upon deck for a 
quaff of the morning sunshine. The Sabbath morn greeted 
them with clapping hands ; all around, in sky and upon ocean, 
wore a serene, pensive smile ; and a sweet, holy emotion 
blossomed up in their freshened hearts. 

Wliatever of damp clothing that could be mustered from 
the cabin, was now spread upon deck for an airing; and while 
some of the crew were employed in the hold, packing the 
kentches of fish, in order to economize room, others might 
have been seen jogging away at the pump, to remove the 
pickle that had accumulated from the salted fishes. 

These duties over, each made the most of the pint of jfresh 
water prudence allowed him to take for a personal wash. 
Sore fingers were then dressed with as much care as is wont 
to be bestowed upon a new-born babe. 

In the afternoon, all hands were wide awake. The day 
still continued very beautiful. With the exception of here 
and there a tuft of fleecy cloud floating in the soft azure, the 
heavens were entirely serene. A dove-like gentleness seemed 
to sit upon the placid bosom of the ocean. The sun gushed 
forth his exhaustless beams, filling the air with a subdued, but 
genial splendor. 

The decks and cabin having been scrubbed, wore a sweet 
face of cheerfulness. The crew cleaned, personally, and 
dressed in their tidiest, looked pleasanter, and felt nobler. 
Indeed, they were filled with that delightful complacency, 
that accompanies an appeased stomach, a peaceful conscience, 
and a bright, lovely day. 

Seated in the cabin, the skipper and FishaU, who were of 

• 17 * 


198 


THE FISHER BOY. 


that fervent sect, the Methodist, and who themselves were 
religious. to superstition, drew forth their begrimmed psalm^ 
books, and commenced pitching their vocal pipes. True, their 
voices chorded but indifferently, yet, accompanied as they 
were by several others of the crew, who chimed in with a 
monotonous diapason, the singing had at least the quality of 
volume; and as the rough but tender cadences died away 
upon the ear, they failed not to awaken some of the purest 
and dearest associations of home. 

Sabbath upon the ocean ! How joyful the day ! Upon 
every vocation, this glorious Christian boon falls with seasona- 
ble grace, but to the wayfaring mariner, tossed upon the cease- 
less billow, it comes an unspeakable blessing. 

To the weary, plodding fisherman, especially, it is truly a 
day of rest, — a day of sweet refreshing, — a season for calm, 
lioly enjoyment. Floating so helplessly upon the boundless 
waste of waters, and surrounded by the mazy sublime scenery 
of ocean, are circumstances well calculated deeply to imiiress 
his open, susceptible nature, and touch with liveliness the 
mysteries of his divine faith. 

Ocean ! thou grand type of the glorious Infinite! — mighty, 
illimitable, unsearchable 1 What thought can Compass thy 
boundless attributes, what expression body thy marvellous as- 
pects I Now, grand, majestic, sublime ; now, placid, lovely, 
beautiful. At one time, bold and terrific as a fierce war- 
charger ; at another, sweet and tender as a sighing maiden ! 
How fit an emblem is thy ever restless bosom, of the unsatis- 
fying nature of man I Thy ever-changing scenery, how 
strikingly it typifies the unstable in human life ! How pro- 
^ foundly thy deep, unexplored caverns appeal to the imagina- 
tion, suggesting, with awe, the mysterious in the fate of man, 
and the dark, uncertain future whither lie is hastening. Yet, 
in all thy fitful moods, thou art ever noble, grand old ocean, 


VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 


199 


lifting the soul above earthly grovelling, and inspiring it with 
lofty views, and generous aims. 

As for Walter, so changed, so renovated was now the 
aspect of every thing around him, contrasted with but a day 
before, that, looking at life through his feelings, he would 
scarcely have believed himself on board the same craft, and 
among the same fellow-beings as formerly. 

It is doubtless this variety, which lends that peculiar fasci- 
nation so wonderful to a sea life ; a fascination that binds with 
a spell all-powerful the feet of the hardy wanderer to the 
severe vicissitudes of the trackless main. 

There is this difference between the condition of the lowly, 
and that of the offspring of fortune, that while the honied, velvet 
life of the latter soon palls upon the sense, and no change can 
bring richer delight than he has already enjoyed, but may bring 
disgust rather ; to the former, the merest change is a hap- 
py improvement, and is naturally accompanied by that fresh 
complacency of feeling so conducive to happiness. That is, 
when we are once used to the harder lot, we glide into the 
easier with joyous feelings ; but if the easier lot be ours at 
first, we fall to the harder with a cloud of dejection lowering 
around our path-way. Hence, it is better to commence the 
ladder of life at the lower round, and make our way up by 
gradual but firm steppings, when each pace upwards brings 
us to a broader horizon, and sweeter atmosphere, than to be- 
gin life at the top-round of the ladder, which can know no 
higher enjoyment, and if forced down by the unrelenting hand 
of fortune, must fall to a depressing level of disquietude. 

They fished away in the spot where they now were, with 
unflagging activity, buoyed up from the depression of weari- 
someness, by that elixir of a fishing crew, namely, the hope 
of full fare and a quick return. But the deck getting cum- 
bered with gurry, it became necessary to throw it overboard, 
and change their fishing-ground. 


200 


THE FISHER BOY. 


Heaving the anchor a-peak, they found it fast to the bottom ; 
and no purchase which they could bring to bear proved ade- 
quate to weigh it. After their best endeavors, they were 
obliged to cut cable, and leave this part of their ground- 
tackle behin^J^them. 

There was now remaining to them but the sheet-anchor, 
and they deemed it hardly prudent to drop this, lest in the 
event of losing it, they would be left in the situation most 
dreaded of all by seamen, namely, at sea without anchors. 

The opinion now seemed to prevail that they should return 
home. True, they might continue on the ground, fishing 
adrift ; and as it was in the gala of the season, and their salt 
was far from being all wet, this would seem to have been the 
more reasonable course. Yet no one on board even suggested 
such a thing. Each one, on the contrary, seemed to fear that 
something of the kind would be proposed. They had been 
absent just long enough for that longing sentiment after 
home, so honorable to our better nature, to have risen to its 
culmination, and the slightest pretext for turning their face 
homeward, they seized with the avidity of famishing men. 

A simple life, with but few objects to direct the current of 
the affections, seems to increase their depth and strength, just 
as a stream delves its way all the deeper, as the banks within 
which it is confined grow more and more narrow. 


CHAPTER Xin. 


I LOVE that dear old home ! my mother lived there 
Her first sweet marriage years, and last sad widowed ones ; 

The sun-light there seems to me brighter far 
Than wheresoever else. I know the forms 
Of every tree and mountain, hill and dell ; 

Its waters gurgle like a tongue I know ; — 

It is my home.” 

Mrs. Frances K. Butler. 

“ Cam, cam, cam, not air enough stirring to blow away the 
breath from the nose of a dead chicken, — never shall get 
home at this rate, never,” grumbled with a pathetic tone. Old 
Loggy, as he drew his unwieldly body out of the gang-way 
upon deck. 

“No use in fretting. Wind ’ll come in its own good time,” 
said the skipper, soothingly. 

“ Then heaven speed the day,” answered the old fisherman, 
rather snappishly. “ Come, boy,” he continued, addressing 
Walter, who was standing near him, “ can’t you whistle us up 
a breeze ? I’m not much of a hand for such tricks myself. 
In fact, used to think ’twasn’t right, but I’ll go in for any- 
thing now, that’ll push us along.” 

“ Tut, tut,” broke forth the skipper, “ I never knew any 
good to come from whisthng on board a vessel, especially 
whistling to get a breeze. On the contrary. I’ve seen it fol- 
lowed by squalls enough to take the very spars out of the 
vessel. Shouldn’t ever tempt the Almighty.” 


(201) 


202 


THE FISHER BOY. 


In truth, their patience had been greatly put to the test, by 
a tedious succession of light, baflling head winds, creeping 
lazily ever from one point of the heavens — namely, the 
south-west. Their progress all this time was, in the nomen- 
clature of Marl, but a snail’s gallop. 

At long intervals, however, the feeble breath of wind, after 
sporting cruelly with their intense longing for a change, would 
wane and wane, until it completely gasped out, leaving a day 
or two of flat burning calm. A slight breeze would then 
spring up from the east, accompanied by an ominous thicken- 
ing up in the sky. This would soon gradually veer around to 
the south-east, freshen, while the entire canopy of the heavens 
would undergo all the magic wonders of the kaleidoscope. 

The vessel would now plough her way, as if eager to im- 
prove the moment ; and the crew walking briskly the deck, 
under the electric thrill of rapid motion, and the charm of re- 
vived hopes, could not but be in the most happy state of mind 
possible. But in a little while, the rain would strike in, and 
presently pour down in torrents. Then would come the 
“ stumps ” as they were called, heard at the bow, indicating a 
change of wind, which was sure soon to follow, whipping in to 
the north-west, and after making a little feint here at blowing, 
would veer back to the south-west, and settle down at its old 
tune. 

But for these free flaws, the goal, it seemed, would nexer 
be reached. And as it was, the distance between them and 
home, looked to the eye of feeling of interminable length, and 
the time rolled back and loomed up in the mirage of dejection 
as a space never to be spanned. 

For a week after leaving the fishing-ground, the time, night 
and day, was about all consumed in eating and sleeping. 
Jaded nature now made sweet amends for past neglect. 

The physical satiated, several of the more ingenious took to 


HARD FARE. 


203 


haberdashing in order to kill time. Fishall cut out with his 
knife a very pretty hull of a schooner. Marl busied himself 
upon a curious ivory box, the materials of which he had got 
on a previous voyage whaling. While the skipper — and 
shall we say it — was absorbed in the setting together in the 
most fantastic manner, the patch-work of a quilt. No curious 
lady’s fingers could have shown greater delicacy or skill. 

This timely occupation was enlivened by each one’s run- 
ning off his stock on hand of old stories. By the time they 
had got round, these would bear, repeating. Then came a 
string of old stories revamped. Bits of personal experience 
followed, threads of early life — scenes of love, courtship, mar- 
riage, in which Imagination, good, dear Divinity, helped 
amazingly to embellish the text. 

This resource exhausted, there settled around them a season 
of dread melancholy, filled with sullen looks, snappish tones and 
ugly ways. It was that dire sea-curse which comes so strangely 
like a deep unsettling cloud to drive far away the sweet amen- 
ities of social life, making the fac^s even of boon comrades to 
look hateful. 

This blank monotony was, however, occasionally relieved 
by some godsend of an incident, or perhaps, by a general 
discussion upon a chapter of the ways in early times. 

For example, at a remark of Walter, about the badness of 
their diet, which had been of late rapidly growing worse and 
worse, as the cook shared the general langor and dejection, 
old Loggy took up the thread of talk in his own peculiar 
vein. 

“ Ah, my boy,” quoth the veteran fisherman, “ you know 
nothing of the hardships of fishing, as it used to be when I was 
a boy. When eleven years old, I went cook of a low decked 
banker, for sixteen men, all regular salamanders for eating. 

“ Hard times of it, I’ll be bound,” remarked Fishall. 


204 


THE FISHER BOY. 


“Well, it kept me pretty busy, but boys worked in them 
days. But then it must be owned, that we didn’t have so 
many nice fixings in with the bill of fare, as they do now-a- 
days. ’Twas plain sailing after all. Brown bread, hasty 
pudding, squeal, stifled fish heads and beans, were the princi- 
pal things. Pork and molasses were extras. About these 
latter, some would eat theirs as they went along, but most 
strung up their share of pork, and poured their molasses into 
a jug, to take home for their families in the winter. Fish and 
potatoes with pork fat, was .called fish and dip ; without the 
pork, it was fish and pint, that is, to eat the fish and potatoes 
and point at, or think of the pork. Doughboys, were some- 
times boiled with the fish and potatoes. A few would eat 
these hot with their pork and molasses, but most of the crew 
strung up theirs to take home. In them times fishermen 
thought they couldn’t afford to eat the bodies of the fishes 
they caught, but were content with the heads and back-bones, 
and good eating are they too. They used to save all the 
tongues and sounds of their codfish, all the fins, skinnet and 
junket of their halibut to buy vegetables with in the fall, at 
market.” 

“ They lived so saving in olden times, that I should think 
everybody would have got rich,” observed Fishall. 

“Yes, owners and skippers did use to get ahead, but us 
poor hands had a hard time of it,” continued Log'gy. “ First, 
tv^e had to fit out in Boston. The fitters put aboard such 
stores as they liked, and charged what prices they thought 
sest ; then put on 6 per cent for six months, or 1 2 per cent 
per year, giving the skipper, perhaps, an extra demijohn or 
¥ 0 , to pull the wool over his eyes. When they came to settle 
Ihe voyage in the fall, the skipper must first have his sixty- 
fourth, the owners a quarter for the vessel, and an eighth for 
making the fish. Then talking out the great generals, the 


CATCHING A PORPOISE. 


205 


small generals, what each had had out for himself, and for his 
family, there would be precious little left for the family to 
live on, after paying up doctors’ bills, store-bills, and giving 
the gals each a new suit, and the boys a few dollars for spend- 
ing money for frolics and weddings; for we used to have a 
good many mouths to feed in them days. Poor father and 
mother had twenty four children, and I and Jemimah, by the 
blessing of heaven, have given the light to eighteen ; but poor 
us, we’ve got most through this empty world.” 

At this moment, the cry of “ porpoises ” was heard. Every 
man below sprang upon deck, and rushed forward, as if 
pressed on with a fury. And the skipper foremost of all 
seized the harpoon, that was lying upon the windlass ready 
bent to a coil of rope, leaped into the bow-sprit rigging, and 
poised the weapon for a throw. The vessel, at the time, 
was running quickly with a fresh breeze upon the quarter. 
The shoals of porpoises seemed in the merriest glee. Tak- 
ing, doubtless, the hulk of the vessel for a huge whale, they 
appeared to vie with each other in sportive pranks about his 
body. Down they would come on the quarter, cutting the 
water with the keenest zest, and after reaching the bow, dart 
across the forefoot, as if for very fun. 

At length, after aiming awhile in indecision, the skipper let 
fly, and had the good luck to peirce a large one through and 
through. Athletic hands seized the rope attached to the har- 
poon, and, in a trice, the bleeding animal of the deep, writhing 
in the agony of death, was roused up to the cat-head, and 
pulled in upon deck. But the companions of the captured 
fisli, as if imbued with the instinct of humanity, all disap- 
peared at once, seeming to shrink in horror in view of the 
barbarity of the deed. 

The porpoise proved a plump one, and cutting off the 
blubber, and trying it out for oil, the muscle resembling that 

18 


206 


THE FISHER BOY. 


of tlie ox, was kept for tlie table, and a dainty morsel it was, 
after so long fast from fresh provisions. 

This incident served as food both for body and mind. The 
moody incrustation that had grown around them, like a mossy 
shell, appeared broken, and sociality was revived. 

One morning, after a most satisfying meal of pofpoise, a 
conversation sprang up, which became very lively and ear- 
nest. 

“After all said,” summed up Fishall, “fishing is a mean 
business. ’Tis a real dog’s life to lead. Everybody looks ' 
upon it as a despised calling. It is a curse to our place. No- 
body that follows fishing, ever arrives to anything, and I am 
going to get out of it as soon as possible. What say you, Mr. 
Marl?” 

“Well,” replied the Salt, with a thoughtful look, and with 
a tone of more than usual frankness, “ To confess, I once had 
a prejudice against the calling, but a wider experience in life, 
has changed somewhat my early notions. I have now come 
to regard any pursuit honorable, that is honest. ’Tis the man 
that gives character to the calling, and not the calling that 
imparts dignity to the man. As Dr. Young justly says : 

"Pigmies. are pigmies still, though perched on Alps, 

And pyramids are pyramids in vales/’ 

“ Agriculture was considered menial among the ancients, yet 
Cincinnatus was called from the plough to lead the Roman 
armies, and few men have been more truly honored by their 
country. ' 

“ If fishing has been looked upon as low and mean, it is be- 
cause low and ignorant people have for the most part, been 
engaged in it. Let the business be taken up by men of intel- 
ligence, enterprise and high social position, and the sentiment 
in respect to it would change at once. This is evident from 


THE FISHING BUSINESS. 


207 


the fact that gentlemen of the highest pretensions feel it a 
privilege to catch fish for sport. Now, what is beautiful a? 
amusement, cannot be degrading as an occupation. 

“ Indeed, so far from being a debasing employment, it may be 
looked upon, in comparison with many other ways men resort 
to, to eke out a livelihood, a glorious avocation. No one can fail 
to perceive, for example, that hauling codfish from the deep, 
is in itself quite as noble as peddling wooden nutmegs, or 
even measuring tape behind a counter. There are some 
kinds of business ashore whose very littleness belittles the 
mind. There are many others which are so mixed up with 
deception, slander, and overreaching, that one cannot engage 
in them earnestly without imbibing more or less of these hate- 
ful qualities himself. Now fishing is free from all these influ- 
ences, and is singularly calculated to keep the mind pure and 
simple, and the feelings chaste, warm and generous. 

“ In this respect fishing may be classed side by side with 
agriculture, two of the most honest and noble occupations of 
life. One reaping riches from the bounteous earth, the other 
drawing them from the exhaustless ocean, and both contribut- 
ing to the wealth of the country and the happiness and wel- 
fare of man. 

“ It must be confessed, that the fishing business admits of 
very great improvement ; and when we consider the inestima- 
ble value of fish as an article of food, and consider the bound- 
less regions, the domain of the miriads of the finny tribes, to- 
gether with the marvellous fruitfulness of the species, it be- 
comes at once apparent how desirable are any means that 
shall look to the amelioration of the condition of the fisher- 
man, and add to the lucrativeness of his craft. 

“ Though fishing has been greatly abused,” continued Marl, 
“ yet a good deal can be said in its favor. It is certainly a 
very healtliful occupation, and this is no small item in the bill 


208 


THE FISHER BOY. 


of human welfare. It has justly been regarded as a nursery 
for staunch and able seamen. In the trying scenes * of the 
late war with England, not a few of the bold hearts and de- 
fiant arms that successfully repulsed the foe, and protected our ' 
sea-board sprang from the ranks of the fishermen. And at 
this day, a goodly proportion of those noble commanders that 
at once honor and grace our marine, commenced their career 
as fishing boys. 

“ More even, I could point you here and there, all over the 
land, to many a gentleman living ashore in afiluence, and 
adorning every profession in life, who commenced the world 
on board a fishing schooner. 

“ The chronicles of the past, tell us that many of the splendid 
cities of the world, among them London, Paris, and Havre de 
Grace, were once obscure fishing towns ; and so strikingly 
was this true of Amsterdam, as to give rise to the remark, 
that that city was built upon fish-bones. 

‘‘ And greater than all, and what should cover the humble 
vocation of fishing with everlasting honor, is, that Christ, our 
blessed Saviour and guide, chose for his disciples and bosom 
companions, who were to promulgate to the world, and to suc- 
ceeding generations, the immortal truths of the New Testa- 
ment, the despised fishermen of Galilee. 

“ The deplorable truth is, we are ever getting our heads 
turned and our souls corrupted, by suffering the longing eye 
to hanker after the dazzling unrealities of life. We wander 
like the prodigal son from the hearth-stone of simple nature, 
and become badly intoxicated over the drugged wines of Fal- 
sity. The unsophisticated youth, for instance, peers out 
through the loop-hole of his narrow existence, and the big 
world swells upon his vision like some splendid city flashing 
in the golden sun rays, but on entering this city’s crowded 
precincts, he is sickened with the view of narrow, dirty streets 


MORALIZING. 


209 


and squalid misery staring him on every side, and on looking 
deeper, is shocked with great blotches of pollution, like dark 
running sores upon the body. 

“ And when he gazes at society, dear, divine society, with its 
rustling silks, superb equipage, soft, complacent airs, he is 
quite fascinated. He feels to despise his rustic lot, and sighs 
for the golden bauble of his vision ; but when permitted to 
grasp the flashing meteor, how astounded is he to find it little 
more than empty show and hoUow pretension ! 

“ It has been my fortune,” he continued, “ to see much of the 
world, to mingle intimately with all classes, and I have found 
the good and the bad, the noble and the ignoble, the refined 
and the vile, in every condition ; and I have as often met 
with refinement of feelmg, sympathy of heart, and real man- 
hood, among the lower as among the higher classes, so 
called. 

“ But there is after all a real society upon earth, made up 
like the great Catholic Church, of kindred natures, of con- 
genial spirits, of such as are drawn to each other by the chords 
of mutual love and esteem. 

“ What is needed in the world is more honesty of purpose, 
more independence of character, more genuine sympathy with 
the good, the natural, the meritorious. Each should be more 
true to his own noble instincts, should rise superior to the 
prejudices of society, should assert the dignity of human na- 
ture everywhere, should magnify the immortal manhood 
within him. For what are all the faetitious distinctions of life 
compared with the possession of the fresh, vigorous pulse of 
nature beating within us. 

“Well, how hard we strive after happiness, when the cov- 
eted boon is so nearly within our grasp. A peaceful con- 
science, congenial employment, — and if to these be added a 
few, a very few friends — yea, a single real heart-entwined 

18 * 


210 


THE FISHER BOY. 


friend, with a healthful love for the exhaustless glories of na- 
ture, art and literature, — and little more is wanting to com 
plete our little paradise upon earth.” 

At this conclusion of the veteran sailor, the crew remained 
for a time thoughtfully silent, while Walter felt a strange 
momentary sensation of despondency in contemplating what 
went so effectually to shiver his own bright vision of the 
future. 

Meanwhile, their reckoning was so nearly up, that expecta- 
tion on board stood a tiptoe looking out for land. None but 
such as may have experienced it, can picture the mortal im- 
patience, felt at sea for the first sight of land, and especially, 
if that land be home. They looked and looked, straining 
their longing vision, until Hope seemed cruelly sporting with 
their fond anticipations. 

At length, glorious vision ! it appears. A propitious 
breeze wafts them joyously toward the grateful shores. The 
steadfast point beaming with a smile of welcome is rounded. 
The lovely waters of the Bay are fleetly crossed. Now 
comes the painful suspense, before the first flash of news. 
Are all their friends alive and well, or has casualty, disease 
or death been stealing its insidious foot among them, in their 
absence ? A man approached on the beach. 

“ What of the news.” 

“ All are well.” 

Their hearts beat in a tumult of joy at the sweet tidings. 

As Walter sprang upon the beach, the soft, fragrant wood- 
land air fell upon his sense, with the keenest charm of delight, 
so bright and soothing was the green verdure upon the mel- 
low landscape before him. This was the outward of that 
inner and deeper sentiment with which anticipation had col- 
ored the heart. 

But as he wended homeward, he felt strange at the awk- 


ON SHORE. 


211 


wardness of his own gait. The ground seemed unsteady 
beneath his tread. In fact he rolled and pitched, as if still 
aboard the capricious Pink ; and he noticed the rest had a 
similar, ungainly walk. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


“ Let me live amongst high thoughts, and smiles 
As beautiful as love ; with grasping hands, 

And a heart that flutters with diviner life 
Whene’er my step is heard.” 

Proctor’s Mirandola. ^ 

It was now a joyous season at the Mansion. Walter’s re- 
turn had ushered in a wave of sunshine upon the parental 
roof. Grandmother, uncles, aunts, relatives, and neighbors, 
all were filled with gladsomeness, and rushed around the boy 
to express their congratulations, and heart-felt sympathy. 
Oh the happiness of a cordial welcome, from warm, sympa- 
thetic hearts ! It seemed to Walter to compensate for all the 
hardships he had undergone. As for Mrs. Carl, her joy and 
gratitude knew no bounds. It nearly took away the power 
of expression. 

The Pink had been absent eight weeks, during which no 
tidings had been heard of her. They intended on leaving to 
be gone but a few days, and this unaccountable absence filled 
the friends at home, as weU it might, with the most intense 
solicitude, and apprehension. All sorts of conjectures were 
framed as to the probable fate of the Pink, and even the most 
prudent and slowest of belief, shook their heads and looked 
serious when called upon for an opinion. They were then 
like friends risen from the dead. 

( 212 ) 


WASHING-OUT FISH. 


213 


The following morning dawned brightly for the inevitable 
washing-out-day. Basking so delightfully amid the sweet 
charms of home, Walter would gladly have excused himself 
from the drudgery of washing-out, but his generous nature 
recoiled at the thought of shirking his share of duty with the 
rest. 

On reaching the beach, he found most of the crew down 
there before him, briskly at work. They were garbed in a 
clean suit from head to foot, and their countenances w^ere 
wreathed with an expression of radiant complaisance. 

A scow was along side of the Pink, into which the fishes 
were being pitched from the hold of the vessel, and they were 
flying through the air, as if hurled by the spring of gladness. 
When loaded, the scow was slowly pulled ashore, and her 
burden tumbled into the edge of the water, or surf. Here a 
part of the crew stationed themselves, and each in a stooping 
posture, seizing a fish by the tail in either hand, and after 
scrubbing them together and washing and rinsing them until 
clean, added another and another, until the hands being full, 
he trudged them up the rising beach, and deposited them 
upon a rectangular pile, or stack, termed Waterhorse. Here 
the fishes remained a day or two, until the surplus water had 
become duly pressed from them, when they were carted by 
the shoresman, and spread upon the flakes for drying. 

This washing-out was wearisome enough to Walter, but 
then he was standing upon his native shore, and the labor of 
the day once over, he could nestle till the morrow, amid the 
dear delights of home. Then the irksomeness of washing-out 
was relieved by the notable washing-out dinner. This was a 
bright spot in the fishing life, — an event looked forward to 
with keen anticipation, a pleasure beforehand that helped to 
dissipate many a weary day at sea. 

It wsis given by the owners who were also shcwesunen, as a 


214 


THE FISHER BOY. 


bonus to the crew for privileges received in return, and 
doubtless originated from the well known principle of human 
nature, that when the stomach is once appeased, the other 
powers of the man yield a ready acquiescence. 

The washing-out dinner in the simple life of the fisherman 
was an event of more real lively importance, than the most 
sumptuous banquet in society. The preparations for it were 
little less extensive, and the circumstances with which it was 
invested, were not of much less eclat than those accompany- 
ing an old fashioned family wedding. 

First, the neighborhood had to be scoured for the nicest 
pig, calf, lamb, or poultry ; and this in a part of the country, 
and, at a time, when fresh meat was a rare and expensive 
luxury. Added to these were the puddings, pies, custards, 
and other forms of pastry, prepared by the good matrons of 
the day, who prided themselves, without vain pretension, upon 
excellent cookery. 

This substantial and not altogether not luxurious board, 
was heightened immensely in charm, by the fast from shore- 
diet at sea, and the waste of the system, by a long forenoon’s 
washing-out. Well might it be looked forward to, with a 
covetous, longing eye. 

And thrice joyful was the moment, when the long polished 
table, stretched in the most capacious room, with floor well 
scoured and sanded, displaying in unstinted abundance the 
glowing savory viands to tempt the eager appetite. Around 
it ranged with alacrity the crew, with a sprinkling of the 
shoresmen. Their manner was pervaded by a kind of 
hearty and hale frankness, but mincing ceremony was no 
more seen among them, than if such a thing did not exist in 
the world. Yet there was apparent a kind of deferential re- 
spect, and, among the younger of the crew, a species of be- 
coming modesty, or bashfulness, that invested the scene with 


A HArPT GATHEKING. 


215 


a certain air of restraint. Still, there were abundant evi- 
dences of genial good humor playing up in the countenances 
of all, and not ^infrequently there would break forth a laconic 
remark, or a dry joke, that enkindled the company and en- 
livened the repast. 

Not the least charming features of the scene were the 
bloomed matrons and the blooming maidens, who like 
freighted blessings with angel wings, were quick and ready in 
their attendance upon the company. It was no menial grudg- 
ing service that they rendered, but that sweet happy bestowal 
from united hands and loving hearts. 

The former mildly clad, with countenance beaming with 
gratitude and happiness. The latter simply garbed, but in 
their tidiest and prettiest, with bosom swelling with hope, 
eye melting with tenderness, and cheek crimsoning with mod- 
esty. 

To the pure, impressionable soul of youth, what object so 
inspiring of delicious emotions, as the contemplation of a 
beautiful maiden, reared amid the sweet simplicities of na- 
ture. Swelling like a soft, bursting rose-bud, with the inimi- 
table charms of Nature and her sex, — just standing upon the 
mysterious threshold of womanhood, she appears as uncon- 
scious of her deep loveliness, as the woodland bird of its 
matchless note, or the gay butterfly of the inimitable hue of 
its wings. 

Ah, hapless man, couldst thou arrest from the inexorable 
ravishings of Time, and the heartless corruptions of the world, 
so divine, but fugitive charms ; couldst thou fold the embodied 
joy forever to thy own needful, yearning heart ; nestle there 
rapturously amid the soft palpitations of its virginal bosom ; 
and drink in endlessly from the love incense of its fragrant- 
breath, what a fount of perennial happiness wouid n()t bo 
thine ! How then to thy inner sense would this earth bIo.<4.. 


216 


THE FISHER BOY. 


6om like a beautiful garden; its radiant heavens beam with 
the prismatic hues of the rainbow ; and life all around hang 
thickly with the golden fruit of human blessedness. This one 
need of thy nature fulfilled, — the fine germ of thy soul thus 
enveloped in the native beauty of a kindred existence, how 
would thy new life shoot up afresh from the darkness of chaos 
and blossom like a rose. What a heaven of heavens would it 
hang around thy perpetual view. How it would nerve thy 
arm valorously for the stern battle of Life. 

Alas, that such a picture can rarely exist, except in the 
longing dream of the heart. Alas, that the wine of life must 
be so often spilled ; that dawning innocence should ever 
awake to a night of shame ; that the perceptions of moral 
beauty should ever be perverted by the corrupting influence's 
of society, that the dearest and loveliest attributes of the soul, 
should ever be bartered for sordid gain ; and that life should 
sink into a grovelling existence destitute alike of noble aim or 
spiritual beauty. 

The washing-out done by the crew, the making or drying 
of the fish, was the part of the shoresman and his gang. 
From the water-horse, the fishes were carted, and spread for 
drying upon platforms entwined with twigs, called flakes or 
hurdles, situated in the most favorable spot to woo the breeze 
and sun. As the evening dew began to fall, or upon the ap- 
proach of wet weather, the fishes were gathered in yaffles, but 
spread again whenever circumstances appeared favorable for 
drying. This process repeated a few days, they were ready 
to be i)acked into larger stacks for a smoother face, when of a 
fine drying day, they were thrown out for a final airing, they 
were either weighed off and despatched on board a vessel to 
market, or else stored for a more deliberate sale, according to 
circumstances. 

Washing-out over, and the vessel thoroughly cleared out, 


FISHING FLAKES. 


217 


washed and scrubbed, there were a few days leisure to the ves- 
sel’s company, before setting out upon the Mackerel Voyage. 
The married portion of the crew, and some of the more sedate 
of the bachelors, employed the interval in doing up the neg- 
lected home chores. But the youngsters were only too happy 
In the opportunity it afforded them, to appear trigged in their 
gayest attire, and saunter full-bloomed, all redolent with the 
perfume of their own fresh feelings, amid the welcome neigh- 
borhood. It was altogether natural that some of these latter 
should often of a fine afternoon, find themselves straying off 
toward the Fishing Flakes, attracted thither by the young 
damsels so busy there, garbed in short skirts, gloves, armlets, 
and sun-bonnets, lustily engaged in the general work. For 
iii those days, the practice prevailed among the fishermen of 
employing young women to help at the fiakes, whose efficient 
services could be secured for a trivial pecuniary consideration. 
Not unfrequently the wives and daughters of the crew, skip- 
per and shoresman, and even of the owners themselves, did 
not feel too good to lend a helping hand. Indeed, oftentimes, 
some fair young daughter, the pride of the neighborhood, 
whose father, it may be, in solid wealth, could outweigh a 
score of some of your puny city misses, too delicate to look a 
rough North-wester full in the face, might have been seen 
among the number. 

Without meddling with the vexed question of woman’s 
rights, one thing is certain, that these simple young women 
of olden time, who never felt too good to labor with their 
hands, were never above the calling of their parents, who 
were always ready to assist in earning the money intended for 
their comfort and happiness in life, — in all the cardinal qual- 
ities of character grew up very excellent women — affection- 
ate wives, good mothers, kind neighl )rs, and exemplary Chris- 
tians. 


19 


218 


vTHE FISHER BOY. 


Undoubtedly pursuit and association have their influence in 
the formation of female character, but the power of these is 
not radical, when the primitive elements are kept within the 
fountain of simplicity and truth. Else, how is it, that we so 
often meet with some fair flower of character, all fragrant with 
the grace and loveliness of nature, that has grown up amid 
the grosser associations of life, while we as often see another 
frail being cradled in the lap of luxury and boasted refine- 
ment, as hollow hearted and base, as a graven image. 

Then let no one repine at the lot Heaven has vouchsafed 
her ; and while she may make unremitting exertions to secure 
all the influences for a higher, a nobler, a more beautiful life, 
— education, society, wealth, — let her not forget that purity 
and intrinsic worth, may be preserved in every condition, and 
that these are ample to give a glow to female loveliness, that 
.shall shine like the sapphire in the richest coronet. 


CHAPTER XV. 


“ Yet is the school-house rade, 

As is the chrysalis to the butterfly, — 

To the rich flower the seed. The dusky walls 
Hold the fair germ of knowledge, and the tree 
Glorious in beauty, golden with its fniits. 

To tliis low school-house traces back its life,” 

Street’s Poems. 

The fishing season was over. The first summer’s experi- 
ence in Walter’s sea life, was now numbered with the fleeting 
moments of the past. Its hardships and checkered incident 
had broadened life’s horizon to the boj, and imparted to him 
greater depth of character. 

The mackerel voyage in the fall, which we have not here 
room to describe, being over, and the vessel hauled up for the 
season, Walter stood in his winter suit of new cloth, some- 
what more of a man in stature, and greatly more in a compla- 
cent feeling of self-importance. He had achieved something, 
or, at least, had experienced a real grappling with life, and 
the consciousness of this lit up his imagination soothingly, and 
gave a sweet glow to hope. It^sent the blood throbbing with 
keener vigor through his pulse, and imparted a more lively 
elasticity to his step. 

There is something nobly charming in the flrst pulsations 
of successful achievement. The delight it awakens is scarcely 
less sweet than the blissful dream of love. The incipient 
power seizes the ai-dent and aspiring soul of youth, kindling 

(219) 


220 


THE FISHER BOY. 


and glowing into a passion for generous and manly effort, 
casting outward its piercing beams, and lighting up a bright 
vista of the future, vague and dreamy, but grand and fascinat- 
ing. The intoxicated youth feels suddenly endowed with an | 
illimitable capacity. Great and noble deeds lie golden in his 
path- way ; his heart distends with its own generous emotion, 
and yearns to press to its warm embrace the whole living 
world. His soul soars to the loftiest flights, seeking some 
career of grandeur that shall crown his footsteps with immor- 
tal honors. 

This feeling sobers with age, and is dulled by the realities 
and disappointments of life, but it never becomes extinct ; — 
not at least, so long as there is vitality in the heart, vigor in 
the step, and activity in the muscle. It is, in fact, the birth 
of action, living with its life, and dying with its death. Thus, 
we perceive, it is the getting, and not the possessing of wealth 
that keeps the soul full of the enjoyment of acquisition — the 
climbing up the ladder of Fame, and not the serene contem- 
plation from its summit, that keeps the heart aglow with the 
sweet enthusiasm of ambition. ’Tis the moving wing that 
flashes in the sunlight. Thus, those who look forward con- 
fidently to a day of complete rest upon earth, a time when all 
the faculties may remain in a state of inactivity, fall into a 
dangerous illusion. 

Glorious Thanksgiving past, a day of rare significance in 
those simple times, and one that gave a bright inauguration to 
the Winter’s festivities, came the Winter’s School. This, by 
time honored custom must always commence the first Mondav 
after Thanksgiving day. Here assembled for learning, the 
youths of the neighborhood. High and low, rich and poor, 
the Abecedarian, and the most advanced of the People’s Col- 
lege, all came together, to drink at the same common fount. 
Grading and classification, select schools, and schools for 


ANTIQUATED CUSTOMS. 


•221 


the separation of the sexes, refined contrivances of the pre- 
sent knowing age, were out of the question in those primi- 
tive times. A neighborhood was but a larger family. Chil- 
dren played together, grew up with each other, usually at- 
tended the same church, at least, went to the same school, 
assembled at one festive board, intermarried according to 
individual bent, were attended in sickness by neighbors and 
friends, received genuine sympathy on their death-bed, and 
were laid in the same graveyard together at the close of life. 
To be sure, these simple rude societies were not free of the 
ills that everywhere beset human nature, and fester as people 
crowd into neighborhoods, but there was in them a cordial, 
friendly intercourse, a hearty, genuine sympathy, that seems 
fast dying out upon earth. Oh, that ,we could invoke the in- 
cense of the warm heart of the Past. 

The branches taught in school then, had not widened off to 
such a range as we find now. There were no learned lan- 
guages, with their eternal clatter^ At most but the simple 
tough Anglo Saxon, quaintly spoken. No ologies diving into 
the mysteries of Nature. No ornamentals, save, perhaps, a 
sample of the marking stitch, or a humble effort at painting 
with the cranberry or chokeberry. No singing except an 
occasional solo from some repentant urchin suffering from the 
smart of the teacher’s ire. The utmost scope given to the 
branches taught, were reading, spelling, penmanship, and 
arithmetic ; and even of these, the latter branch was deemed 
quite useless for females. The softer sex were thought of 
hardly sufficient intellectual power to delve successfully into 
the abstrusities of the mathematics. At any rate, such hard 
and out of the way knowledge, could not be, it was contended, 
of any possible use to them. It would not render them more 
skilful in making bread, or weaving cloth. 

The master was subjected to no such crucifixion as exam- 
19 * 


222 


THE FISHER BOY. 


ination. No committee of wiseacres sat in umpire over his 
claims. Our fathers had a simple way of testing qualifica- 
tions. The popular apprehension decided first whether an 
applicant should be admitted to trial. If he then succeeded 
in conducting acceptably his school, he was reemployed. 
There was no third party to test fitness. 

The primary element in a teacher’s success, was his 
power or tact to govern. If he could rule his little king- 
dom, all was right. Literary qualifications were of minor 
importance. If he could not govern perfectly, it was all 
over with him, however competent he might be in other 
respects. 

But in his authority, he stood alone, himself on one side, 
his little army of spirits on the other. Whatever his fate, 
he received no comfort or aid from parents. He must fight 
his own battles. Indeed, if the parents did not encourage 
the sly tricks of their little ones to out-wit the school- 
master, they certainly winked at them, and were inclined 
to look upon their mischievous pranks as evidence of smart- 
ness. 

But then if they did not cooperate with the teacher in 
maintaining his authority, they never took the part of the 
child against the teacher. The practice was, if a child had 
received a whipping at school, to give him another, and send 
him back for a third. 

The question of the master’s supremacy was usually de- 
cided in the outset. If the teacher was ejected out of the 
doorway, or worse, thrown through the window, the first day, 
and then snowballed until acknowledging himself vanquished, 
by a combination of the older boys, it were about useless for 
him to attempt a resumption of his official position, but if by 
some coup d* etat, or coup de main, he succeeded in getting 
the reins in his own hands, all was right. 


THE SCHOOL DISTRICT. 


223 


Government was too often arbitrary, harsh and impulsive, 
and punishments often severe, intemperate and cruel. 

Scholars could hardly be expected to cherish affection for 
teachers exercising government in so despotic and barbarous 
a manner, and the most these knights of the rod and ferule 
could boast of in the way of fealty from their pupils, was a 
sort of trembling awe. Hence, it was no rare episode among 
the incidents of the last day of school, for some of the more 
daring spirits of the little empire, who during the winter, had 
felt the smart of the teacher’s rod oftener than their haughty 
spirit was disposed to brook, and moved by that inexorable 
law, “ as a man soweth so shall he reap,” to overtake the master 
while this dignitary was on his way home, and come down 
with a sound drubbing upon his merciless head, and so wipe 
out the old score. 

It were pleasing to attempt a picture of the Old District 
School, that had for so long pursued the even tenor of its way, 
but limited space bids us hurry on with this narrative of the 
Fisher Boy. Suffice it to say, that the current of school life, 
that had flown so evenly in the moss-grown edifice, was soon 
to receive a check. As we have elsewhere intimated, a spirit 
of innovation had already begun to dawn in the settlement. 
It was soon to show itself in the administration of the School. 
Several of the more progressive of the leading minds had for 
some time evinced a desire for employing teachers of a difier- 
ent character from those that had heretofore swayed the rule 
of authority in the school. By some accidental turn in the 
wheel of affairs, one of these revolutionists had received the 
appointment of agent ; and he with the cooperation of the 
minister, procured the engagement of a teacher for the district 
school from abroad. The candidate for this new honor, was a 
young man of no more than twenty-three summers, who had 
just completed his course of study at college. He came frccH 


224 


THE FISHER BOY. 


from the fields of science, all fragrant with the rose of litera- 
ture. 

So bold a step of departure from the time-worn usage of 
the district, produced a lively sensation in the neighborhood, 
but for the moment, the grumbling of the opposition was 
drowned amid the fervor of public curiosity. Young maidens 
hastened forward their nice winter dresses, and summoned 
from the depths of beauty, their very best looks, wondering in 
their heart of hearts who was to be blessed with the new 
teacher’s especial attentions. Matrons discussed the probabil- 
ities of his success with their husbands, and chatted about his 
imagined qualities, over a cup of tea with their neighbors. 
While the old men of the neighborhood, put on a grave taci- 
turnity, ominously expressing the belief that the times were 
wofuUy changing, and that the American Republic could not 
be expected to last a great while longer. 

The much looked for day at length arrived. Curiosity 
was on tiptoe. At half past 8 o’clock, the new school-master 
was seen to issue from deacon Goodman’s, and make his way 
primly toward the old red school-house. He was a slender 
young man, but possessed of a graceful, genteel form, with a 
face of a pale, interesting cast. His dress was plain, but he 
was garbed in fashionable taste. There was something about 
his whole bearing revealing an air of the book, something that 
smacked of the midnight lamp. 

On the way, he was the observed of all who happened to 
live upon his route, and many a curious one took pains to 
cross his path-way, as it would seem by accident. They all 
noticed that he was very affable in manner toward Miss 
Goodman, who very naturally accompanied him to point out 
the way to the school-house. 

This becoming manner of the teacher, so trifling as it would 
seem in itself, was yet made the text of a good deal of com- 


THE NEW SCHOOL-MASTER. 


225 


ment in the district. The young maidens were greatly flut- 
tered, that Miss Goodman should be the flrst to win the re- 
gard of the teacher. They could not see what there was in 
Sally Goodman, so very taking. Besides, was not such famil- 
iarity very bold in a stranger, and he their teacher ? They 
had never seen anything hke it in all their born lives, they 
were sure. They guessed it would be one long while before 
they allowed him or any man, especially a stranger, to take 
such latitude with them. 

The matrons too were not a little shocked in their notions 
of propriety, by this first behavior of the school-master. They 
could not but swell with that very noble feeling — virtuous 
indignation. Rightfully the guardians of the pubhc honor, it 
was fit that they should give utterance to their opinion upon 
the subject. Hence, they thought the conduct of the school- 
master very suspicious. It wasn’t best to put too much confi- 
dence in people. Strangers, especially, needed to have a 
pretty close eye kept after them. It was no matter if he was 
genteel and innocent looking. These white livered young 
men with glossy locks were just the very worst to be found. 
It was “ the still pig that drinks the swill.” Coming from 
College didn’t mend the matter a whit. They had heard 
enough about the pranks cut up at College. The biggest 
rogues in the world were such as had got their heads stuffed 
full of all kinds of learning. On the whole, they concluded 
the young man must at least be watched pretty closely. 

The school commenced. The pupils saw at a glance, that 
a new sun had risen upon them. They found nothing as for- 
merly, save the house and the familiar faces of comrades. 
The teacher began his rule by gentle, moral means. He 
addressed his pupils as rational beings, influenced by the law 
of kindness. He broached a thorough reform, — a change of 
text-books, — an innovation always so dangerous to a teacher, 


226 


THE FISHER BOY. 


— classified the school according to age, and stage of advance- 
ment, required them to learn the rules, give explanations, and 
define the words in their lessons. 

For a few days, the school current flowed smoothly. In- 
deed, there was even a gush of enthusiasm from the sponta- 
neity of youthful hearts, touched by the spring of novelty. 
The gleeful wave rippled along the school, like the sun-kissed 
wavelet over the pebbled beach. But before this youth- 
ful glow had subsided, an untoward incident fell upon the 
teacher’s fortune, like a spark lighting into a magazine of 
powder. 

A sturdy little fellow to whom a lesson had been assigned, 
failed in preparing it. Opportunity was given to make good 
the delinquency, but the second time the obstinacy of the little 
fellow triumphed. The teacher now with some little severity, 
ordered him to remain until the lesson should be prepared. 
At this, Rebellion shot from the little tyro’s eyes, and flashed 
from his lowering face, like lightning from a summer thunder 
cloud. With a voice and gesture that would have befitted a 
much older person, he declared boldly that he would do no 
such thing. 

The unexpected incident created a rush of sensation 
throughout the school. Scholars, are ever eager for excite- 
ment, and anything that promises fun, they hail as a god- 
send. Their sympathies sweep them along with the weaker and 
suffering party, having little regard to justice or what is befit- 
ting ; and they are ever most ready to show their colors. So 
long as no eddies got into the current of the school-life, the 
glow of novelty kept up an unruffled flow in the stream. But 
not one of the school was disposed to brook the slightest oppo- 
sition, from the present incumbent. The chains of their for- 
mer restraint had been worn too long to be thus suddenly 
removed with impunity. In little empires, as in great, long 


TROUBLE IN THE SCHOOL. 


227 


existing arbitrary power should be changed only by gradual 
steps. 

The culprit perceiving with the unerring instinct of child- 
hood, that he was deeply entrenched in the sympathies of the 
school, held out in dogged defiance. Though a man of kindly 
feelings, the teacher comprehended the necessity of subduing 
this rebellious spirit to the authority of the school. To this 
end, he struggled till the falling shadows of evening cut short . 
the contest, without, however, achieving the result. The un- 
willing captive released, darted home, a fire-brand through 
the wintry air. His wrongs portrayed by the eloquent tongue 
of passion, touched the sympathies of his family at the ten- 
derest point. The whole household was inflamed with indig- 
nation. The father, an impulsive, headstrong man, happening 
withal to be of the opposition, flew into a tornado of passion. 
Throwing himself among the discontented of the district, a 
rebellion was at once fomented. Political interest drew some 
to its ranks, mere excitement attracted some others, while an 
eager curiosity swelled greatly the cortege. 

It was unanimously agreed, among the malcontents, that a 
school-meeting should forthwith be called, to settle the matter 
without further loss of time. A few people of strong common 
sense, and of a decided independent turn of mind, — such as 
may be found in very small numbers in almost every village, 
quite ashamed of this much ado about nothing — remained at 
home. Yet the meeting was a large one — that is, the house 
was filled to its utmost capacity. Young and old, inimical 
and friendly, had gathered there with a common curiosity. 
The assembly was enlivened even with a sprinkling of the 
fair sex, and the teacher himself had shown the temerity to 
smuggle in with the rest. 

Esq. Langdon was voted moderator by'acclamation. This 
gentleman always presided at the public meetings of the neigh • 


228 


THE FISHER BOY. 


borhood, whenever present. He possessed a kind of ubiquitous 
trait of character, which enabled him rarely to miss his attend- 
ance, and consequently, the honor of presiding. The Squire was 
a highly respectable man ; in fact, looking at him from all points 
of view, the most purely respectable personage of the neighbor- 
hood. He united in himself so many winning abilities, as to have 
long passed for the village oracle. His official character was 
as varied as country politics, and the offices he was called 
upon to perform, as multifarious as public life itself. A 
deacon of the church, he not unfrequently officiated in the 
absence of the minister, to the great acceptance of everybody. 
A justice of the peace, he was often called to try petty suits 
at law, as well as to judge knotty points of jurisprudence, and 
to draw up the last wills and testaments of such, as had 
deemed it prudent to set well in order their house, in this 
world, before leaving it for the next. Added to these he was 
one of the fathers of the town, a road commissioner, and was 
not unfrequently called to sit as Teferee or arbiter, in a com- 
plicated case of dispute. Sometimes, he had been called to 
perform the ban of marriage to some happy couple just enter- 
ing upon their earthly paradise. And from time far beyond 
the recollection of Walter, he had represented the town in the 
General Court. He was supposed to have been elected and 
to retain this most honorable office partly because of his im- 
maculate wisdom, and in part, because his family needed the 
emoluments accruing from so lucrative a situation. 

Squire Langdon presided. He rose calmly, and with 9 
grave, consequential air, briefly laid open the objects of the 
meeting. He possessed a pensive, gracious mien, that seemed 
compounded of wisdom and benevolence, which went far to 
captivate the imagination of the populace. 

The father of the aggrieved boy flrst took the floor. He 
gave utterance to his excited feelings, with impassive verbi- 


THE SCHOOL-MASTER IN DIFFICULTY. 


229 


age. He even fretted and tore, until reason abashed, seemed 
to have descended from its royal throne, and to have with- 
drawn, in very shame. He took up his comJ)laint, dwelt 
upon it, turned it over, hammered it upon this side and upon 
that, until it seemed huge enough to overwhelm the ill-fated 
teacher. He finally adduced his son as living evidence of the 
truth of his assertions,. and wound up with the flippant re- 
mark, that such a man was not fit for a tinker, much less for 
a teacher. 

The harangue of the next speaker was kindred in tone. 
He did not need to have been in the school-room, to know 
how things had been going on there. He could easily read 
the whole story in the children’s faces, as he met them day by 
day, in the road. And for his part, he guessed there had 
been some strange doings in the school-room. He shouldn’t 
wonder, if the order had been greatly out of joint. From 
what he could learn, the school-master had a bran new way 
of governing, a way that didn’t seem to work very well, for it 
was clear that the scholars had gotten the upper hand of him. 
Well, it had turned out very much as he guessed it would, 
when they told him how they were agoing to change, and 
what manner of man they had gotten. The truth was, green 
sappling school-masters from out of the country were not just 
the thing -to manage their salt-water boys. He didn’t know 
of any better way to govern than the old fashioned way, 
namely, when a boy didn’t mind, to whip him till he did. He 
sent his boys to school to behave. If they didn’t do this of 
their own accord, they must be made to. He didn’t wish the 
teacher to show them any quarter. If the boys stood out, the 
teacher might kill them, and the father would make coffins for 
them. 

The unearthly tone of this last sentence, sent a wild thrill 
through every breast, and brought to his feet a tall, fierce 

20 


230 


THE FISHER BOY. 


looking man, in whose face the fires of anger shot forth like 
tongues of fiame, beneath a half-pent fire. 

He was exactly of the same opinion as the last speaker. 
For one, he hadn’t liked either the order or the teaching in 
that school. He was no friend to such new fangled notions. 
He was for the old way. Plain sailing was the thing to his 
taste. One thing he could say certain. His boy hadn’t 
learned a word since the school had commenced. He didn’t 
want his children coaxed up with sweetmeats. Bring them 
right up to the ring-bolt. Pinch their ears till they screamed, 
« O ! ” That would be one letter, at least. 

There was now a pause. ■ Squire Langdon, the moderator, 
with great propriety filled the gap. He descanted with ver- 
bose dignity upon the nature of the case. Usually his lan- 
guage was such, that you could not tell to which side he 
leaned, a circumstance which gave him the air of profound 
judgment, and a scrupulous care in forming an opinion. But 
in this instance, the preponderance of public opinion was such 
as to warrant a departure from his usual wont, and he very 
palpably hinted, that the best way would be to break up the 
school, and try a new teacher. • 

The school-master perceiving the current to be setting so 
unmistakably against him, arose, and in a calm, logical man- 
ner, endeavored to justify his course. He assured the assem- 
bly, that if permitted a fair trial, he could convince them of 
the virtue of his principles. But he found the torrent setting 
against him too strong to be stemmed. The school was 
broken up, and the teacher summarily dismissed in dis- 
grace. 

The gentle spirit of the teacher, crushed with the feeling of 
the wrong done him, took his departure from the district 
and place forever. So rude and mortifying treatment, just 
upon the threshold of responsible life, gave a shock to his sen- 


DIVERSE OPINIONS. 


231 


sitive nature from which he never fully recovered. Hieing 
him to obscure life, he betook himself to scribbling and mel- 
ancholy, and died a victim to morbid sensibility. • 

Meanwhile, the school was again started under the auspices 
of one of the old standard teachers of the district, the confi- 
dence of the community became speedily restored, and very 
soon all was as quiet as if there had been not a ripple upon 
the bosom of their late so agitated society. 

“ But all is not Rome that is of Rome.” There were a few 
of the district whose finer feelings revolted at the treatment 
their late beloved teacher had received. Small in number, 
they were yet strong in influence of opinion, because of the 
universal faith in their elevated sense and truthfulness. The 
swelling tide of numbers and the whirl of human clamor, do 
not always bear away in their course the primal convictions of 
society. There often springs a counter current, flowing from 
the well-spring of honest nature, which, like the under stream 
of a mighty river, moves on noiseless and unseen, but certain 
and resistless, bearing the accumulated train of waters into 
the bosom of the ocean-eternity of truth ! 

Of the small number whose wrathfulness of soul rose in 
indignation at the spray of ignominy flung at their late 
teacher, and whose loyalty of nature bid them express with- 
out counting the cost, their fullest measure of disapprobation 
of the act, were Walter and his mother, and the families of 
two others whose sons were of about the same age as that of 
the Fisher Boy. 

These three resolved quietly to withdraw from the school, 
and attend at the Old Parish, some two or three miles 
distant. In spite of their secret movements in the matter, 
their intention early leaked out, 'as the most vigilantly 
guarded secret is sure to do in a country village. The rumor 
had soon flown to every body’s ear. As strange as it may 


232 


THE FISHER BOY. 


seem, it awakened a sensation, but a little less intense than 
did the advent of the late vanquished teacher. A decided 
feeling of envy ruffled the neighborhood, but the rebuke it 
bore for the abandonment of the teacher, plucked the barb 
from that emotion. Besides the parents of two of the boys, 
were not to be questioned for independent action. And as 
for Walter, although he encountered here and there, a fling 
of irony, as to the ability of his mother to support him in his 
ambitious pretensions, he arose after some struggles of spirit, 
above these wounding reproaches, resolving to allow their bit- 
terness only to inspire him with higher purpose and flrmer 
step, in the upward road of a noble career. 

When the first wave of agitation had subsided, there was 
an honest feeling of regret, at the contemplated leaving of the 
boys. To lose from the society of their school, three of their 
choicest spirits, would be, it was felt, a great loss, and already 
the impending cloud of sorrow cast its shadow before. But 
both parties possessed too much pride of dignity, to advance 
overtures for a compromise, and each day’s sun only bright- 
ened more clearly the devious paths of their course. 


CHAPTER XVL 


** Love is a celestial harmony 
Of likely hearts.” 

Spencer’s Hymn in honor op Beautt. 

There was now to be a new turn in the current of Wal- 
ter’s life. He was going to school at the Old Parish. The 
thought was very pleasing to him, and yet the delight it af- 
forded was not unmixed with a certain indefinable emotion, 
that made him feel loth, after all, to commence bending his 
steps thitherTJ-rd.* In truth, the boy inherited by nature an 
uncontrollable bashfulness, and this, with a certain prestige 
which the Old Parish held in his mind, brought a tremulous 
emotion to his breast, in view of becoming a participator in 
its society. 

The Old Parish he had ever been accustomed to look up to 
with feelings of profound reverence. AU its scenes were 
associated in his mind with sentiments of youthful venera- 
tion. 

There ascended the Old Parish Church, mellowed by time, 
yet ever fragrant with the sweet sanctity of worship. Here 
from time beyond the memory of Walter, had weekly held 
forth the Rev. Mr. Radclifi*, the Revolutionary Patriot, the 
genial wit, the college bred scholar, and the ministerial oracle 
of the town. With his stately, venerable form, his graceful 
port, his antique costume, his elegant diction, tempered with 
benignity, the veteran preacher was pictured upon the mem- 
20 * ( 233 ) 


234 


THE FISHER BOY. 


-I 

orj of Walter, with ineffaceable distinctness, a living daguer- 
reotype of the courtly times of the past. 

Near the gray old church, stood the Town’s Poor House, 
the dread of tottering humanity, but the* almoner of Heaven- 
descending charity. 

Not far from these, glared the Old Rickety Town House, 
looking consequential in its broad interest of the political 
family. 

Upon the county road running through the neighborhood, 
might have been seen in lowly guise, about the only “West 
India and Dry Good Store” in town, drawing thither the 
needy from all quarters, and supplying them with the useful 
and ornamental with tireless hand. 

In a broad neighboring field, where the frugal pines had 
refused to grow, was mustered the Yearly General Training. 
This inspiring pageant was sure to sweep for at least one day 
in the year, the whole living town into a focus, to have their 
pulses quickened by martial display, and to revel in social in- 
terchange and physical gratification. 

On an eminence, stood the slumbering, red powder house 
of the Town, and near it squat upon the ground, the big iron 
cannon, that thundered out, of a fourth of July, the remem- 
brance of our national birth day. 

It was in the Old Parish, that lived some of the oldest and 
most consequential families of the town. Indeed, the very 
site was the most elevated part of the township, and over- 
looked the adjacent country, as the Parish people looked 
down upon those residing in other parts of the settlement. 

Was it wonderful, therefore, that this favored centralization 
should feel a little puffed up with local vanity ? 

For the school then — in the Old Parish, so exalted in the 
mirage of his youthful fancy, he was to exchange the long 
familiar one of his home. 


SETTING OUT FOR THE NEW SCHOOL. 


235 


It was of a Monday morning that he set out, all flushed 
with the novel feelings of the change. 

He started very early and alone, that he might have time 
to call on the agent of the district whither he was going, to 
secure the preliminary written permit, to enter on the foot- 
ing of a member of the district. 

Naturally timid, he would have been glad of the company 
of his two associates- to make his debut into the new school, 
but they had already received a certificate of admission, and, 
consequently, had no need of leaving home so early. 

He made his toilet that morning with unusual care, as if 
inspired with a pleasing presentiment of the value of decora- 
tion. There are times when the soul would fain adorn the 
body with the blooming freshness of its own feelings. 

After words of noble advice from his angel mother, he 
closed the door behind him of their simply furnished apart- 
ments. 

The frosty morning air breaking in upon his sense, lent a 
keen invigoration to his elastic steps, while the warm eddying 
glow which the exercise of the route diffused throughout his 
system, awoke to beauty of perception every faculty of his 
being. As he bounded along the crooked and uneven way, 
smiling nature around swelled with an air of grandeur and 
sweetness upon his mental horizon, and existence itself, rosy 
with the bright wings of morning, nestled within his breast, 
as a halcyon boon, radiant with joy and love. 

How happy those .moments, when the soul, bursting the 
fetters of sordid life, breaks forth upon its throne of glory, 
like some sudden illumination of enchantment, — imparting a 
magic touch to the golden threads of our affections, and 
gilding every outward object with its rays of celestial fire. 

Then it is that the inspiration for a grander life seizes and 
distends the soul ; then that the heart pants with true pulsa- 


THE FISHER BOY. 


23 G 

tions for the noble and sublime ; then that we are transported 
to elysian fields, where vistas of enrapturing beauty shadow 
forth upon the enchanted sense the divine charms of an 
eternal blessedness. 

These vivid gleamings of the soul, like gushing sunlight 
through April clouds, show to what serene exaltation we 
might attain were our life simple and noble, beautiful and 
true, in harmony with nature and congenial with virtue. 
They reveal, moreover, the transcendent, immortal nature of 
man, his boundless, varied capacity for happiness, while 
shadowing to his feeble comprehension the pure, illimitable 
joys of heaven. 

Thus, the gracious divinity of his teeming brain cast her 
benign spell over his buoyant spirit^ drawing to her charmed 
embrace the impressionable faculties, and breathing over 
them the dewy fragrance of her own sweet incense. Indeed, 
his mind seemed to have been gradually drawn inward until 
he was quite oblivious to the sharp outline of the world 
without. 

In that enthralled, glowing state, he wended his way 
mechanically, a way not much less familiar to him than the 
time-trodden paths about his home. He soon approached a 
valley, one of those deep, regular valleys extending for many 
miles across the country, seeming to mark some energetic 
volcanic change at a previous period of the world’s history. 
This was covered with coppice, extending to within a narrow 
margin of the bed, tlirough wliich ran a tiny stream, dry in 
the summer, but now swollen by the fall rains, it was gurgling 
its way toward the ocean with something of the strut of a 
more lordly stream of water. 

As he was turning an angle of the road, that brought to 
view a crossing of the stream, his eye unexpectedly fell upon 
the form of a girl. She was standing upon the opposite bank 


PLEASURABLE EMOTIONS. 


237 


of the swollen rivulet, across which a couple of rails had been 
lain to accommodate passers. 

When the young girl first struck his view she had jusi 
placed her small plump foot upon the rustic bridge-way, evi- 
dently in the act of crossing, but catching a glimpse of the 
boy, she naively retreated, partially concealing herself behind 
a cluster of shrubbery, as if she shrunk from exposing herself 
in a new situation before a stranger. 

This sudden meeting of a girl of about his own age, and 
unknown to him, completely aroused Walter from his sweet 
musings, and sent a wild fiash of emotion through his heart. 
He stood for a moment irresolute, overcome by that strange 
delight that woman by her mere presence has the unconscious 
power of awakening in man. But summoning courage, he 
stepped boldly forward, and delicately tendered his aid for 
her crossing. 

The girl acquiesced without solicitation, but with a charm of 
grace so unaffected as to touch the finest chord of the beautiful 
within his own breast. And when her soft, trembling fingers 
met his own, accompanied by a look of gratitude so sweet 
as to be richly laden with reward, a wave of delicious sensi- 
bility swept over his soul, and thriUed tlirough every fibre of 
his being. 

As her feet touched the coveted bank, she bowed to Walter 
a token of cordial acknowledgment, blushing at the same 
time, an apology for the sensation she had caused him, then 
turning upon the boy a final look of bewitching complaisance, 
she bounded off* with a step as light and a movement as airy 
as those of a fawn upon the mountain green. 

Walter was rivited to the spot spell-bound, entranced ; and 
there he stood, gazing with mute but enraptured emotions 
after the enchanting vision, until her divine form faded 
entirely from view. What was it that had enthroned so sud- 


238 


THE FISHER BOY. 


denly the fair girl in his breast? Wliat that had imprinted 
her image, as with lines of fire, upon the beauty-tablet of his 
soul? Was it her exquisitely neat fitting dress, revealing 
limbs divinely moulded ? Was it those soft, golden ringlets, 
toying so delicately her snowy neck and breast? Was it those 
joyous, speaking eyes, eyes of heavenly azure, mirroring a 
soul of melting tenderness, but pure as the gushing spring 
upon the hill-side ? Was it that sweet, dainty mouth, around 
which played a soft, perpetual smile, ineffable of inward 
delight ? Or, was it the captivating grace of her manner, so 
simple, so unconscious, yet so charming to his finer sense; 
or, with a more philosophic air, could it be attributed to the 
poetic complexion of his own feelings, enlivened by meeting a 
fair young girl under so pleasing circumstances, that had 
enkindled his imagination and clothed the living object of his 
vision with the gorgeous hues of his own impressionable soul ? 
Or, further still, must it be more deeply sought in that myste- 
rious sympathy of the human heart, which, like the magnet of 
nature, while it maintains its influence with unweilding per- 
sistency, evades all explanation as to the secret of its power ? 
Was it one, or all of these combined, that had so wonderfully 
transformed his very existence ? Of this, he did not care to 
seek the solution. He only knew that whereas before blind 
in the exquisite sense of the heart, he now saw with beatific 
vision. The fetters of his soul had dissolved, and his happy 
spirit was leaping in the sunlight of joy. All the traits of 
female loveliness that had ever gleamed athwart his spiritual 
vision seemed now concentrated in one sweet image that was 
glowing in his breast with transcendent brightness. He did 
not even ask himself if these enchanting feelings of his heart 
were shared or reciprocated by the angelic being that had 
called them forth. These emotions for the instant were too 
disinterested to claim homage from another; too generous 


NEW EMOTIONS. 


239 


were they to exact a return. For the time, he was content to 
revel in the blissful dream into which he had fallen, and to 
enfold to his gladsome embrace the beaming image alone that 
had so entranced his soul. How pure the love that springs 
from the crystal fount of the soul, that casts the radiance of 
its own joy upon all without, that is happy in the supreme in 
the delight of its own gracious communings, — the love that 
is unmixed with the sting of remorse, unsullied with the 
sordid fang of passion. , 

Amid the bright dawning of his new em'otions, he felt a 
mild force that lent a grateful elevation to his feelings. It 
was like the glow of power, the charm of possession, the 
sweet joy of a kindred spirit, the deW and sunshine of con- 
geniality, the halcyon security of an intimate relation. It 
was a feeling kindred to that which glows in the breast of the 
mother as she catches for the first time the breath of her 
newly-born, — of the loving husband, who feels for the first 
time, upon his arm, the elastic weight of a double existence. 

In this delightful mood he bounded forward with a buoyant 
step. Surrounding nature seemed to reflect the lively hues 
of his own emotions. The light air fanned his cheek wooingly. 
The verdant pines seemed joining their hands in love. The 
sky had a smile of joy. The fleecy clouds were soft with 
delicious langour ; and even the sober and gray fields looked 
mild with a serene benignity. The tiny brook that he leaped 
was babbling in tones of affection, and the little gray squirrel 
that tripped athwart his pathway seemed ready to nestle in 
his bosom and there chatter out its tale of life. 

Reaching the agent’s, and obtaining the desired certificate, 
Walter flew back towards the parish school-house. The low, 
quaint, red edifice soon broke forth to his view. In a few 
moments longer he was standing before its rough portal, 
blanched and furrowed by the peltings of the weather, and 
scarred by the vandalism of Yankee boyhood. i 


240 


THE FISHER BOY. 


The teacher, with a mild, intelligent countenance, welcomed 
him within. As the boy entered, his abashed glance met a 
sea of upturned faces, and among them upon whom should his 
eye fall but upon the face of the identical girl whom he had 
met that very morning at the crossing described. As her 
glance met his, he thought to detect a delicate blush upon her 
cheek, that blush that obtrudes unconsciously at the strange- 
ness of one’s own sensations, while her eye suddenly fell upon 
the bench before her, as if fearful of trusting to view that 
feature of the form divine that is wont to reveal so unmis- 
takably the emotions of the heart. 

At so unexpected a re-encounter with the fair girl, a thrill 
of excitement shot through the frame of the boy. The blood 
mounted with a rush to his cheeks, and then subsided with a 
warm, tingling sensation to the verge of his extremities. 


CHAPTER XVn. 


** The cause of love can never be assigned, 

* Tis in no face, but in the lover's mind.” — Drtdbn. 

It is a severe trial to a timid nature, that of being suddenly 
ushered into a society of strangers, and there left to delve 
one’s way to an easy acquaintance with them. Besides, Wal- 
ter was affected by a tender sentiment that colored all his per- 
ceptions, and placed him ill at ease in his feelings. This was 
all the worse, because he naturally desired to appear to the 
best advantage in the eyes of others, while the peculiar em- 
barrassments under which he labored tended continually to 
surprise him into some little mortifying act of demeanor. 
But the two companions from his own district served in the 
outset to fortify his timorous spirit. The teacher at once 
approached the boy, in a gentle, winning way, and soon 
secured his confidence. One after another of the warm, 
generous-hearted school-mates won his regard by some tender 
,act of welcome. In fact, the entire sympathetic current of 
the school was continually swelling up in his breast a commu- 
nity of feeling, until in a brief space of time he was on so 
easy terms of familiarity with the whole little community that 
he wondered that he could ever have felt as a stranger among 
them. 

It would surpass the limits of our narrative to detail the 
many pleasing incidents of the winter’s school at the Parish. 

21 ( 241 ) 


242 


THE FISHER BOY. 


Suffice it to say that the season passed charmingly, leaving 
behind one of those bright spots in the sunny period of youth, 
that the heart clings to so fondly in after life. The entire 
community at the new school was quite superior in point of 
elevation and refinement to the one at home. The teacher, 
though a similar style of man from the one so summarily 
ejected from his own school, here enjoyed perfect success, 
being in a different social and literary atmosphere, and called 
to rule unlike elements of character. 

A happy spirit of mutual good will throbbed through the 
school ; and Walter, enjoying a high degree of mingled forti- 
tude and self-respect from the summer’s strengthening adven- 
tures and from the lustre of novelty around him, was thrown 
into a frame of mind” most delectable. Not that there were 
no troublesome eddies in the stream of the winter’s school, 
such as an occasional ripple of indignation at some fancied in- 
justice on the part of the teacher ; now and then a falling out 
between some rather intimate couple, resulting in a temporary 
alienation, but soon made up with deepened affection ; here a 
momentary heartburn, there a little jealousy. At one time, 
a lump of gossip thrown among them as leaven ; at another, 
the belching to light of some covert act or manner, demanding 
a rebuke from authority ; and such like foibles of human 
nature which are, after all, but the spice of small societies. 
But, on the whole, the spirit of the school was excellent, and 
the improvement good; and Walter felt a degree of large 
tranquillity, such as he had never before* experienced. His 
soul seemed to expand with elevating emotions under tlie 
benign infiuence. 

If one idle trait more than another got ascendency, and 
took to itseff undue share of time, it was a species of intimacy 
that sprang up between the older of the boys and girls. This 
would not unfrequently be seen in interchange of furtive 


SCHOOL COMPANIONS. 


243 


glances, in forbidden slate communications of flattering ad- 
dresses and arch replies, and in an occasional billet doux, 
containing here and there a pretty, but indefinite sentiment. 
Out of school hours the charming maidens were ’wont at times 
to have proffered them a more substantial expression of favor, 
in the form of fruit or some little gift-token, and they were as 
often subjected to those warm, delicate attentions that spring 
up between the sexes as sweetly as gush out the crystal 
waters from the fount of nature. 

But there were three among the girls that shared more 
largely than all the rest, of this homage. Indeed, the whole 
school by accord raised them by its affection upon an elevated 
pedestal of worship. Yet in personal appearance, in indi- 
vidual character, and in that indefinable charm in which lies 
the mysterious power of woman, they were as unlike as could 
well be imagined. They seemed to unite by contrarieties, as 
nature often forms the closest union from opposite elements, 
for to appearance they were bound in more than sisterly 
concord. 

Of this lovely trio, Angeline Beadcliflf was the queen 
flower. She it was that di-ew forth the heart-incense of the 
entire school. Her two devoted companions were but lesser 
settings to the central, lustrous diamond that flashed in the 
sunlight, and challenged the admiration of all. It was this 
girl that Walter encountered at the crossing, and whose eyes 
met his with such mysterious magnetism on entering the 
school. Nature and life had formed her among the loveliest 
of earth’s beautiful flowers. The pet grand-daughter of the 
parish clergyman already noted, the sWeet dignity of the 
venerable man of God, and his pure holiness seemed to have 
descended like a delicate mantle upon this tender lamb of his 
fold. One might have said that she had caught from the 
halo of earthly glory that surrounded the venerable man, as 


2U 


THE FISHER BOY. 


the heroines of old hallowed lustre from the prestige of rank 
and wealth. The idol of her parents, she inherited from her 
mother a certain graceful affection not easily portrayed, and 
from her father a nobleness of soul that forbade all meanness. 

From her tenderest babyhood she had been beloved by 
everybody. She had become the adoptive child of the uni- 
versal heart. The instincts of the masses, true to the im- 
pulses of nature, had enfolded her to their bosom as by 
common inheritage. The affection, the reverence, which 
people felt for the village pastor was now lavished upon his 
sweet grand-child. The loving tenderness which his minis- 
trations had swelled up in the hearts of his hearers now 
flowed forth upon the blooming scion of his old age. 

But these profuse attentions did not spoil the girl, as flat- 
tery is almost sure to do, because, in this case, they were only 
an unaffected response to genuine worth, and sprang by nat- 
ural impulse from the heart. 

There are two types of female grace in the world. One is 
the off-shoot of culture and art, the other springs from the 
dewy lap of nature, and finds expression in the golden sun- 
shine, the melody of birds, the gushing, dancing rivulet, and 
in all the sweet, joyous harmony of the universe. Angeline 
was a true child of nature, and of nature in her brightest and 
loveliest phase. 

Artless, noble, and generous, she may yet have had faults, 
but as no one else could see any, we will not seek to find 
them ourselves. Her goodness of heart proved a talisman to 
win, and changed to delight the eye that strove for a blemish. 

In her slightest movement there was an air of simple, but 
queenly dignity, that heightened her charms of person to the 
summit of perfection. Without this grace, her soft beauty 
might have palled upon the eye, like the golden fieck of the 
summer lake. But with it she stood out a beautiful statue 
upon a fine pile of architecture. 


A SHOW OP GALLANTRY. 


245 


But it was not the outward beauty of her person that im- 
parted to the girl her peculiar fascination. It sprang from a 
deeper source. It emanated from a beautiful soul. It was 
this that lit up her comely form with irresistible charms, this 
that drew the world to her in ardent homage, this that flooded 
her pathway with sunshine, this that surrounded her with a 
halo of loveliness to which every fibre of the angelic in man 
responded in tones of sweet accord. 

But the young girl was as unconscious of this wondrous spell 
of spiritual beauty that she possessed, as the morning bird 
warbling in the breezy spray is of the sweet melody of its song. 
Accustomed from rosy infancy to the heart-homage of every 
body, she grew up in an atmosphere of genial incense. To 
be greeted always with the tones of love, to be regarded ever 
with the eye of affection, to hear continually words of good 
will, had ever been so much her portion as to awaken in her 
breast no other than a feeling of complaisant gratitude. It 
filled her with happiness, made her life joyous, and her 
spirit as blithesome as a summer butterfly. 

The attentions of the more susceptible of the boys began 
in the course of the winter to assume an aspect of delicate 
gallantry, and more than once some one, more bold than the 
rest, essayed to give a significance to his partiality. To a 
heart less sophisticated than that of Angeline, these beguiling 
flatteries might have awakened an emotion of uneasiness, but 
to the simple-hearted girl they disturbed not the equalized flow 
of her sentiments. She took it but as a more ardent expres- 
sion of the kindness she had always received, and she con- 
tinued to move on in her wonted orbit, as some brilliant star 
amid a host of willing satellites. 

It were not easy to find the secret of the power that the 
fair girl had cast over Walter. Philosophy may penetrate 
the hidden recesses of matter, may trace the subtile laws of 
21 * 


246 


THE FISHER BOY. 


mind, may even detect the affinity of the affections, but tliere 
are mysteries of the heart too deep for her sounding plummet, 
too profound for her searching eye. 

Still, it is permitted us to scan with philosophic eye, the 
train of circumstances that brightened the image glowing in 
his breast. Walter inherited deeply a tender and impres- 
sionable nature. The grief-stricken and gentle spirit of his 
mother, nursed by sympathy, this native quality of soul. His 
lowly condition kept him in close relation with the genuine. in 
life. He was blessed by nature with a lively susceptibility to 
the beautiful. The scenes of rural simplicity that surrounded 
•his early years imparted a sweet tone to his sentiments. A 
thoughtful turn of mind, imparted a pensive complexion to 
his ideas. 

These ethereal flames of his soul finding no outlet amid the 
rich fields of literature, science, and art, were narrowed within 
their native confines. But they thereby gained in intensity 
what was lost in expansion. They gradually fired his nature, 
quickening every latent energy of his being. 

With no outward objects for exaltation, they sought to 
create an image within, upon which to spend their fiies. 
Woman became that image. In her, Walter saw, or thought 
he saw, all that most answered to the sweet cravings of his 
awn soul, — ^truth, piety, fidelity simplicity, gentleness, grace, 
tenderness, love, consummate beauty. Not that he had met 
with any one woman thus endowed, but somehow from the 
crucible of his soul one had been struck out with just the 
qualities he could wish; and busy imagination kept pace 
with his growing conceptions, so as to continue the image up 
to the full measure of its charming proportions. He had 
attained unconsciously, precisely the object sought by the 
sculptor, in representing by inanimate form, his highest con- 
ceptions of female beauty : by the true poet artist who delineates 


AN IDEAL IMAGE. 


247 


not any one woman whom he may have seen, but by the exercise 
of the high power of abstraction, selects from extensive survey, 
here one exquisite feature, there another, and then by the keen 
umpire of judgment and the gilding touch of taste, unites and 
blends them into one harmonious perfection, adding to all the 
nameless grace caught by passing through the alembic of his 
own peculiar feeling. Thus the artist presents his highest 
embodied conceptions of beautiful woman, — not of any one 
woman, but of woman in the abstract, — not of woman improved 
by the genius of man, but a beautiful creation drawn all from 
nature, and representing woman as she appears to the highest 
inspiration of the poetic, gifted soul. 

It was such an ideal image of woman, or of all that to his 
sense was most beautiful and lovely in woman, that was 
pictured upon the tablet of his soul. Before this created image, 
he was ever kneeling in mute, adoring worship. With it he 
communed incessantly upon the mysterious secrets of the 
heart. It became his guardian divinity, holding him back 
from all that was low and base, and filling him with aspirations 
for the lovely and true. It was ever his noblest, sweetest 
companion, before him alike in the dark sea-watches of the 
night, amid the black mutterings of the tempest, and at the 
brightest blaze of noon-day, amid the thickest haunts of men. 
And finally when he lay down to sleep, it was his last conscious 
vision of earth, and the first bright image to greet his awaken- 
ing sense, and in his dreams, it mingled freely in the peopled 
realms of that other land, swaying its sceptre even over the 
empire of sleep. 

But how came it, that Walter’s devotion for this bright 
ideal image in his breast was transferred to the fair girl, the 
queen of the village school ? Let us hasten to tell all we know 
about that mysterious little secret. 


24S 


THE FISHER BOY. 


The first morning, while going to the agent’s he fell into one 
of those spiritual moods, as we have seen when the soul is 
entranced, and becomes lively susceptible to the beauty of earth 
and heaven. When the fair stranger first met his view, he felt 
of a sudden, a delightful transformation of soul. No touch of 
the electric wire could have been more sudden, more keen. As 
he handed the fair one over the scanty bridge-way, a wave of 
new-born emotion rolled through his soul. And on turning to 
pursue his way, after gazing in a state of delicious entrance- 
ment, at the receding form that had awakened him to new life, 
he felt conscious that the image which had been wont to usurp 
his breast, was there no more, and in its stead sat divinely 
enthroned the image of the fair girl who had just lighted in 
his pathway, like an angel from heaven. 

It became a moment of profound ecstasy. The blissful 
dream of his youth was all at once realized. He had awakend 
to a new birth. A regeneration of existence had come over 
him. It was no longer a mere image, a picture of the 
imagination, indefinite and unsatisfying that he must now 
worship, but a real being of life, a creature of breathing ^ame, 
a veritable woman whom his rapturous eye had seen, his 
emotional sense touched, and who with himself was one of the 
great beating world of life and sympathy. 

The reality was nearly overpowering. He seemed translated 
to a new world. The varied relations of life brightened up 
in glowing aspects. The future which had hung with such a 
cloud of gloom over his pathway became all at once as bright 
and serene as a summer morning. He felt as light and 
blithesome as an uncaged bird which snijis the air and sunlight 
of heaven. 

It is not contended that the love which Walter felt for the 
fair Angeline was the only phase which that master passion of 


IDEAL LOVE. 


249 


the human heart assumes. It was not for instance that love 
which absorbs the soul of woman, and throws her, young and 
beautiful though she be, prostrate in utter devotion at the feet 
of age and deformity itself, if that age and deformity be 
enshrined with genius and heroism, making the earth resound 
with acts of grandeur and power. 

It was not that love, which is but the response of^ a grateful 
heart, a heart too generous to withstand long assiduous atten- 
tions of devotion on the part of another, or, it may be, 
becoming charmed by noble acts of friendship, is cap- 
tivated, held in thrall, and finally subdued in sweet conquest. 

It was not that true love which springs up between congenial 
natures, natures possessing bonds of common sympathy, beings 
with whom a mutual life has cemented a friendship that 
renders them, though distinct like the billows, yet one like the 
sea, hearts that have grown with fibres gradually interlocking, 
united cleaving with fieshly tenacity, bosoms that swell with a 
kindred emotion, an enraptured state in which eye answers to 
eye, and lip to lip, and souls are cemented in a union 
inseparable. 

The love which Walter bore Miss Redcliffe was an ideal 
love. It could not be called real, only so far as it existed in 
his own soul. Indeed it was little more than an intense 
sentiment, a poetic enthusiasm, the beautiful creation of his 
own soul transferred by some mysterious power to a kindred 
being. 

He had yielded the sceptre of power to another, had raised 
her to a throne of empire universal, had created her an immac- 
ulate goddess before whom he was to bow in unquestioned 
worship. Whether this partner of his soul possessed the 
qualities assigned her by the generous affections of Walter’s 
heart, could not be known. If she did not, what a gulf of 


250 


THE FISHER BOY. 


misery might lay before them. How dangerous the path of 
love trod by woman. She decks herself and displays her arts 
in order to please. That may be well. But if in winning 
the prize, on securing the transfer to herself of that beautiful 
ideal man’s longing heart has formed to himself, he wakes up 
to find that he has parted with a beautiful love, but has gained 
none in return, that the fair being that captivated him, 
possesses no qualities in correspondence with the image he had 
so long embraced and worshipped, that the reality has vanished 
into the air, that it is a phantom that he was embracing, that 
all has been delusion, how unhappy for him, how miserable 
for her ! 

Let woman then seek to be what she appears. Nature has 
fashioned her in person beautiful. It has given her the 
elements of a corresponding loveliness of soul. A soul as 
superior to the body in angelic beauty, as mind is raised high 
above matter. Let her cultivate this immortal part, that it 
may blossom with all the fascinations of a paradise, to equal, 
yea, surpass the most beautiful ideal that man is capable of 
forming of the beauty, the loveliness, the glory of woman. 
Better that woman strive to make her person hideous in the 
eyes of man, than that she lure him by a false exterior that 
has no correspondence of beauty within, to a spiritual grave 
of death, in which are shipwrecked all his beautiful hopes of 
life. 

Walter did not ask himself the question whether his affec- 
tion for Angeline was worthily placed. He did not care to be 
t oubled with such a disturbing query. He was too blinded in 
the joy of his own dream to think of that. He only knew 
that he loved the fair girl with the full strength of his soul. 
And what was there to cast a shade of doubt, that this passion 
was genuine ? Was not the girl very beautiful? Was there 


QUEEN OF THE VILLAGE SCHOOL. 


251 


not in her every feature and act something more than beauty, 
a certain captivating grace, that was irresistible in its fascinating 
power over him ? Were not her parents enthroned in the respect 
and affection of the town ? Were not her grand-parents revered 
and beloved to a point of actual worship ? Added then to the 
personal charm of the fair girl herself, was the fascination of 
family position and influence. This element came in to deepen 
and strengthen his attachment to the object of his choice. It 
enlarged and elevated his happiness. It went to satisfy that 
early aspiration of his youth for social preeminence, for 
climbing tq, some loftier and more noble sphere of existence. 

But such speculations were after all unworthy the purity of 
his sentiments for Angeline. His love for her was independent 
of all mere worldly interest. The sweet power which she 
held over him was deep, irresistible, complete. He felt a 
happiness in her presence all absorbing, delicious. Her every 
look was a bright ray from heaven. Her transcendent image 
was ever before him in his waking hours, and gave splendor 
to his dreams by night. Her very 'foot-prints he gazed on 
with emotions of tenderness, and the slightest rustling of her 
dress sent a thrill of delight through his heart. 

Strange power of the human soul, that can first create a 
world of love, and then in a delirium of ecstasy rush blindly into 
its blissful waters. Thrice strange that having himself tasted 
this divinest emotion of earth, man should ever be willing to 
disown the loyal sentiment, as if ashamed of one of the piirest 
feelings of the human heart. 

Miss Redcliffe, as we have before said, was the worshipped 
queen of the village school. She instinctively drew forth the 
tender gallantry from the hearts of the older boys. Even 
the teacher could not always disguise a certain warmth of 
delicacy in addressing her. But the ingenuous soul of the 


252 


THE FISHER BOY. 


girl received this homage, but as another expression of that 
complacent love which she herself had ever felt for others, and 
which she was wont to receive from others in return. Feeling 
no exclusive interest in another being, she could not compre- 
hend that she merited particular attention from another. 
Thus the unsophisticated girl, passed off the flatterj bestowed 
upon her, with a coy grace, that but enhanced her worth in 
the eyes of the seeker. 

Walter’s eye was quick to perceive this. True, Angeline 
had given him no especial token of her love. But then sure 
he felt, that she had neither yielded her heart to another. He 
at least stood equal in his fortune with other aspirants. More 
than this, he had gathered some slight evidences of her par- 
tiality for him. The fond, eager heart catches at shadows. 
Then he could not but feel, that the being gifted to fire his 
soul to such a glow of passion, must possess a nature congenial to 
his own ; that the beneficent Great Cause, ever harmonious in 
design, would not create a heart to awaken so intense a flame 
of affection in another, and yet remain insensible to the 
reciprocal exercise of those emotions in return. Indeed, he 
gradually came to persuade himself, that he was to be the 
first, the only choice of the young girl. Blissful thought ! 
He felt this in its calm, awakening force, which is itself 
the inspiration of love. 

In this sweet self-complacency, his richly freighted barque 
was being wafted delightfully upon the placid sea of Hope. But 
an unseen gale was soon to spring up, that would toss the 
fragile vessel in phrenzied desperation. 


CHAPTER XVIIL 


“ Foul jealousy ! that turnest love divine 
To joyless dread, and mak’st the loving heart, 

With hateful thoughts to languish and to pine, 

And feed itself with self-consuming smart ; 

Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art. ” 

Spenser’s Fairy Queen. 

It wa's a dreary December night. The menacing storm at 
length broke forth, and the big rain-drops intermingled with 
sleet, came coursing to the earth in fierce, pitiless blasts. 

In a low, dilapidated cot, a mere hovel in respectability, 
might have been seen a wretched family, consisting of a couple 
of parents, and some five of their unhappy progeny. These 
latter bore a shrivelled and melancholy look, that was painful 
to behold. 

The father with hair silvered, rather by hardship, than by age ; 
with teeth loosened rather by medicine, than by organic decay ; 
with a soul crushed by domestic griefs, as well as by deep thrusts 
from the dark hand of fortune, exhibited, nevertheless, vestiges 
of a haughty spirit and an indomitable pride. 

The wife evinced no signs of physical decay. Yet her thin 
wiry frame, her nervous, startling motions, her sharp, bitter 
voice, her haggard wandering eye gave unmistakable evidence 
that the woman had felt deeply the storm of wrong, of mis- 
fortune, and suffering. Indeed, she was but the bitter concen- 
tration of her former strong nature. Her life had been 
steeped in the wormwood of unhappiness. Her soft traits had 
been crushed out, and what remained had been intensified and 
hardened into adamant. 

Two of the children were deaf mutes ; another was lame from 
the fracture of a limb ; and upon all, want and misery were 
depicted in every lineament. Still, these offspring of misfor- 

22 (253) 


254 


THE FISHER BOY. 


tune possessed features of classic sjmetry, complexion of 
rare purity and a native vivacity, that bespoke them beings 
above the common mould. But their wine of life had been 
turned to gall, through the mildew blast of a cursed home. 

Bleared-eyed jealousy on the part of the father, and domes- 
tic incapacity of the mother overlapped by ill-success in busi- 
ness, were the principle causes of their wretchedness. 

And yet the morn of their marriage union shone serenely. 
They belonged to two of the wealthiest and most respect- 
able families of the town. They were endowed by nature 
with surpassing beauty of person, and striking intelligence. 
Education had graciously dispensed to them more than her 
wont. 

Thus at the outset of their voyage, all seemed to bespeak 
prosperity and happiness. But they seemed to have launched 
their barque upon the receding wave, and the treacherous 
waters had left them a strand upon the shore of life. 

The howhng storm increased. A blast of sleet brought a 
shudder to the heart of Mrs. Leeland. 

“ Where can Isadore be, that she does not return,” exclaimed 
the mother in a tone of deep anxiety. “ She has been absent from 
home now these three days. I fear something dreadful may 
have overtaken the poor child. ’T is an awful night this, to be 
out exposed.” She added, after a moment’s pause, “ Oh, if 
we could only break her up from this strange way she has of 
roaming off, nobody knows whither ! By and by we shall hear 
of the death of the poor thing.” 

“ Never fear any such chance, interrupted Mr. Leeland, in a 
sarcastic tone. Did ye not know the devil to be always in 
luck ; I never saw a drunken person catch any hurt in falling. 
I make no doubt some good fellow will pick the girl up at 
the right time. Ah, she ’s only following, I teU you, the wake 
of her blood.” 


A FAMILY BROIL. 


255 


This last sentence was uttered with an ironic leer of the 
eye, and in a tone so bitter, as to arouse all the maternal in- 
stincts of Mrs. Leeland. 

“ You ’ve no more feeling for your children than a brute,” 
retorted the incensed wife ; “ and if you had a drop of manly 
blood throbbing your bosom, you wouldn’t thus insult the 
honor of your own child. What but your unmerciful cruelty 
first drove her from our door ? ” 

“ More like ’t was your cursed shiftlessness. Such miser- 
able housekeeping would drive a Hottentot from his own 
house. What a miserable apology have we here for a home ; 
I ’d as soon go live with cannibals.” 

During this tirade, Mrs. Leeland, goaded to the quick, was 
ready to launch again upon her husband with the force of a 
mad hyena. But at this moment the door opened, and Isadore, 
accompanied by a stalwart stranger, made her appearance. 

“ Ah, how glad I am that you Ve come,” exclaimed Mrs. 
Leeland, springing from her seat to welcome her daughter, 
“ I was getting to be so worried about you, but here you are, 
safe, and heaven be praised.” 

She hesitated going on, under a feeling of rebuke, in seeing 
her child in the company of a stranger. She felt that her 
husband would now have some plausible grounds for his bit- 
ing and ugly sarcasms. 

As for Mr. Leeland, had the same scene taken place, at 
some former period of his life, before he had quite lost all 
parental interest in his child, under the spell of his monomaic 
insanity, he would doubtless have fallen into a paroxyism 
of passion, that no human power could have withstood; but 
the tie of his paternal loyalty had been sundered, and he now 
shut himself up in dogged sullenness, awaiting a moment to 
spit out some taunting reproach. 

Isadore, in cast of feature, strongly resembled her other 


256 


THE FISHER BOY. 


sisters. She was the eldest and the best looking of them, and 
during her childhood, possessed a face that was indeed very 
sweet apd pretty. But now, although every trace of comeli- 
ness had not been driven from her person by the weird Fatei 
that presided over her lot, yet all delicate expression of beauty 
seemed lost in her tall, gaunt form, her pale shrivelled feat- 
ures, that bore an unearthly expression, and in a certain 
awkward, abstracted air, that made her seem as if some evil 
spirit had gotten possession of her. 

From the impulse of a generous heart, Isadore set to work 
in earnest, to assuage the ill-plight of her stranger guest. She 
drew him quickly up to the fire-place, which she replenished 
immediately from the scanty wood-pile of her home, and then 
ran for a change of clothing from her absent brother’s ward- 
robe. Her mother at the same time set before him some 
coarse and ill-prepared refreshments. 

At another time, Isadore might have hesitated in showing 
so much freedom toward a stranger, in presence of her father, 
but when the heart has become thoroughly aglow with kind- 
ness, it hurries the step beyond the line of cold reserve ; and, 
in this case, the suffering girl had become too much used to 
the bitter tirades of the insensate, to heed them beyond meas- 
ure. 

As the stranger’s stiffened limbs began to thaw, and his 
spirits to fiow with warmth, his tongue likewise became loos- 
ened, and he broke forth into the following exordium : — 

“ May the all gracious Heaven forever bless you, my dear 
angel of mercy, for thus taking pity upon a desolate wanderer, 
like me, up and down this cold bleak earth. I had about 
forsworn all good will . toward human kind, having always 
come off* so badly at the hands of the land-pirates ; but this 
sweet, kindly act of yours brings back, I must confess, a spark 
of the love of olden times.” 


AN ENCOUNTER. 


257 


At the word love^ the slumhering jealousy of Mr. Leeland 
took fire. 

“ Love the girl, eh ? She must have a wholesome taste to 
pick up for a lover such a broken down hack as you are.” 

Old Marl, for it was no other than the old sailor himself, 
had not before noticed Mr. Leeland. But at the sound of 
his voice he cast a glance backward, when their eyes met. 

“ What say you there ? ” demanded the salt in a grufi* 
voice. 

“ I say,” reiterated the father, his whole frame firing up with 
intense energy, “I say the girl must have a wholesome taste 
to be taken up with such a vagabond as you appear, looking as 
if you had been drawn through the devil’s cesspool. 

“ And is it against that young woman that you hold such . 
language,” retorted the sailor, rising quickly from his seat, his 
eyes rolling- with fury. “ If you shall dare breathe a syllable 
against her fair honor. I’ll make you eat your own words so 
quick that you ’ll not know that you ’ve done it.” 

“ Insult me in my own house, eh, you wretch, ” and 
springing from his seat, he struck the sailor such a blow with 
a chair, as sent the stool in fragments upon the floor. 

Quick as thought. Marl grappled his antagonist by the 
throat, and in the paroxyism of his anger, might have dam- 
aged Mr. Leeland irreparably, but for the filial tenderness of 
Isadore, who rushed between them, beseeching the sailor in 
heaven’s name to spare her father. At the word father^ the 
sailor’s hand relaxed, and turning towards the girl with a look 
of utter astonishment. — 

‘‘Your father, and can it be possible ! A thousand pardons I 
beg for my roughness. Upon my word, had I known this 
man to be your father, I would have suffered a thousand deaths, 

22 * 


258 


THE FISHER BOY. 


ratlier than have laid the weight of mj finger in anger upon 
his body.” 

“ After what has happened, I cannot tarry longer under your 
hospitality. Go from here, I must, though it takes me to find 
a bed in the veriest slough of your bleak shores. But first 
let me tell you, man, how it came, that capricious fortune 
threw me among you at all ; in order that you may have no 
reason to harbor an unkind thought against this sweet damsel 
who is an honor to her sex. 

“ Well, you must know that some freak of my poor brain 
sent me on a fishing voyage, in one of your craft last sum- 
mer. The season over, following the bent of my roaming 
spirit, which is about as tranquil as the dancing spray of 
^Niagara, I was led to make a trip south in one of your 
schooners. It was a little dubious coming on the coast, at this 
icy season of the year, but I’ve become somewhat accustomed 
to the gusts of this breezy planet. We had the good luck 
of making land early yesterday morning, and of tying our 
craft snugly up in your harbor, before ‘the lowering tempest 
that had been muttering for two or three days in the sky 
broke forth in its spite. 

“ On getting ashore, while the rest of the crew set blithely 
out for their several homes, I declined all their hearty invi- 
tations to go along with them, and started confidently alone to 
find the house of a youngster who was one of our number 
aboard the Pink last summer. He lives somewhere in these 
parts. To confess, I had gotten up an affection for the lad 
while we were together. Somehow he won upon my good 
will prodigiously. If I mistake not, he is a noble hearted 
fellow, and possesses a larger share of the sweet grace of life, 
than falls to the lot of humanity in general. At any rate I 
was disposed to give way to my inclinations and seek out th«> 


woman’s tenderness. 


259 


young man. But a sailor upon a strange shore of a dark tem- 
pestuous night, is about in the same plight as would be a land- 
lubber among the reefs of Florida. Suffice it to say, I found 
the navigation befogging enough to my salt water brain, and 
after winding about for a time, amid the mazes of my phantom 
perceptions, I at length brought up in the thicket of some crazy 
swamp. And while veering and tacking there like a muddy 
pated loon, beset by a score of guns, I fell suddenly plump into 
a big nasty mud-hole. Here I was in imminent danger of 
foundering my bewildered barque ; and after crossing the At- 
lantic more times than can be counted on one’s fingers and toes, 
might have seen myself in the sorry predicament of shuffling 
off my mortal coil, in this wretched situation, but for a sweet, 
gentle voice that glimmered up through the murky air, like, 
blessed hope amid a tempest. It fell upon my ear, I imagine, 
like seraphic music upon the heavenward winged soul ! What 
was my surprise to find the voice proceeded from a woman. 
With much ado the gentle creature helped extricate me from 
my wo-begone situation, and lead me safely to her warm home. 
How much do I not owe to this young woman ! 

“More, it seems to me, than to any human being, save my own 
blessed mother. No loving sister could have shown a forlorn 
brother more tenderness. No devoted wife could have given 
stronger proof of her fidelity to a world forsaken husband. 
No doating mother could have shown greater alacrity in res- 
cuing a fond son in peril. Believe me, that young woman 
possesses largely the milk of human kindness. Beneath the* 
guise of fragile woman, she bears a lion’s spirit, for in the 
most perilous and trying scenes that I have passed through 
never have I seen the boldest comrade exhibit a more cool 
and dauntless bravery, thai> she did in rescuing me from my 
danger. How little should we know where to seek a true 
loyal human heart. I had about given over woman-kind as 


260 


THE FISHER BOY. 


lost amid the frivolous fashions of life, but I will love 
them all now, and pray for them till the latest breath of my 
existence, if but to honor this noble example of her sex. 
May the gracious heaven forever bless you, my dear girl.” 

With this last sentence the old sailor, under the sway of 
a visible emotion sauntered toward the door- way, with an evi- 
dent movement for departing, but suddenly arresting his steps 
as if checked by a- sudden thought, he exclaimed : 

“ The lad’s name was Walter Carl. May be you happen to 
know him, and can set me on the way to his house.” 

At the words Walter Carl, the blood mounted to the cheeks 
of Isadore, her breast heaved with evident emotion, and she 
subsided into a seat, near, covering her face with her hands, as 
if to disguise the feelings that agitated her frame. 

The sailor gazed upon the spectacle with consternation, but 
feeling that his presence might aggravate the perplexity, he 
hastened to the door-way, and abruptly took his leave. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


“Trifles, light as air, 

Ai-e to the jealous, confirmations strong 
As proofs of holy writ. ” — Shaks. Othello. 

Although at the beginning of the winter school, life flowed 
serenely, yet ripples ere long began to break forth upon the 
gliding stream. The feeling of envy, that leaving his own 
school for that at the Old Parish, had engendered among 
Walter’s former school-mates, only waxed stronger with the 
lapse of time. He and his two comrades had become stigma- 
tized as traitors to their own school, and were exposed to sun- 
dry such petty annoyances, by the pestering spirit of their 
former associates. This was well calculated to ruffle the 
equanimity of the trio. It fell with peculiar force upon Wal- 
ter, who for the first time in his life, found himself becoming 
unpopular. It grieved him sorely at the heart. The first 
symptoms of having drawn upon ourselves the displeasure of 
others, with what withering keenness it strikes the pure sensi- 
tive soul ! 

One evening, a few days after a great fall of snow, as 
Walter and his two companions were wending their way 
homeward, from school, they very unexpectedly encountered a 
huge ridge of snow stretched across their pathway. In its 
altitude, it assumed the character of a formidable breast-work. 
Behind this Sebastopol were snugly ensconced some dozen or 
more warlike spirits, ready to dispute any attempt at breach 
ing a passage. The three boys were too proud-spirited to give 
in and sue for a passage, nor were they disposed to show 


( 261 ) 


262 


THE FISHER BOY. 


themselves so pusillanimous as to fall back, and so reach 
home by a circuitous route. 

Balec, the oldest of the three, was an iron-framed, hard 
fisted fellow, and as tough as the pine knots of his native 
woods. He was moreover awkward-gaited and clumsy- 
mannered, and might as likely as not stumble over his own 
shadow ; but once let his ire become aroused, and woe to the 
unlucky wight that should fall into his sinewy paws. His 
grip had the force of a vice, and as unrelenting. 

Jabez, the next, was a perfect leopard in strength and 
agility. His body partook of the litheness of the adder, 
united with the power of the boa-constrictor. The force of 
two beings seemed to have been concentrated in his own frame, 
and his spirit and courage were in a corresponding large 
measure. His father before him had been reckoned a giant, 
in strength, and Jabez was no unworthy son of his sire. 

No boy of his age could stand before him in contest for a 
moment, and many a person of ripe age was obliged to succumb 
whenever there was a struggle for the mastery. . 

Walter could boast of less physical prowess than either of 
the other two boys, but he had received a considerable 
development of muscle, and he possessed a spirit, which when 
once fairly aroused, did not easily flinch. 

Thus, with strong confidence in their mutual superiority, 
they entertained no thought of yielding without a trial. They 
accordingly prepared for the onset. Pulling well down over 
their heads their Scotch caps, they bolted forward upon a run 
in single file. But on striking the line of breast-work, they 
were so fiercely greeted with a shower of snow-balls as to 
become overwhelmed with momentary blindness, which caused 
them to stagger back for a moment’s respite. 

They next essayed to turn one of the comers of the snow- 


SNOW-BALLING. 


2C3 


line, but the whole posse of opposition pounced upon them 
and compelled them to fall back. 

They now determined to break the line, when they found 
themselves in a hand to hand struggle, walloping over and 
under in the snow, in smothering confusion. In lively conflict 
more than one felt the grip of Balec, or was compelled to cry 
for quarter, by Jabez. Although the spirit of opposition 
began to wane in force, yet by dint of numbers they still main- 
tained their ground. 

It was now nearly night. Indeed, the dusky shades were 
gathering around them. Suddenly a stream of water was 
seen to issue from a woody thicket near. It struck the centre 
of the ridgy line of snow, which disappeared rapidly under 
its melting force. A boy of the opposition impelled by curi- 
osity rushed toward it, when he' received the watery spout 
full upon his person. It set him into a frenzy of gyrations, 
and he jumped about as if shot with a charge of pepper and 
salt. Several others advanced, but shared only too well the 
same fate. Perceiving they had a new enemy to encounter 
they disbanded, and hastened on their way. Walter and his 
companions now proceeded homeward; but as they were 
turning an angle of their pathway, Walter was seized with 
a curiosity to mount upon a high post standing near, and 
cast his eyes in the direction whence issued the mysterious 
stream of water. As his eyes wandered about the thicket in 
the distance, they suddenly fell upon a female figure. She 
was standing near the trunk of an oak, in an abstracted air, 
with face partially averted. He gazed at the unknown a 
moment, feeling certain that he had seen the figure before, 
but when and where he could not recall. He rushed on after 
his comrades, but the image of the female he had just seen, 
•lingered long in his mind. The feeling it excited was not of 
personal interest, but that of strange curiosity. 


264 


THE FISHER BOY. 


How often there hangs upon some trivial incident, a mo- 
mentous turn in the career of our fate ! One evening, on his 
way home from school, Walter happily bethought himself of 
having inadvertently left his speaking-book behind. He was 
too ambitious to risk a failure in declamation, and accordingly 
set out quickly in return, in order to repair the delinquency. 
On coming near the school-house, he was pleasantly surprised 
by hearing musical sounds. They seemed to glide upon his 
ear, through the still, soft air of twilight, in melodious cadence. 
His step was intuitively arrested, as if it were profanity to 
break the sweet harmony. The clear, pure voice, he recog- 
nized at once, as not unfamiliar to him ; and as the warbling 
intonations swelled out into a silvery, joyous pathos, they 
excited his emotional nature to a pitch of rapture not to be 
described. Reaching the school-house, he clambered up an 
old fence, that ran by a window, and stole an eager glance 
upon the musical party within. The first form that his 
searching eye seized, was that of Angeline. She was sitting 
in a back seat, with a psalm-book before her, from which she 
was rehearsing, in preparation for the evening’s singing-school. 
Near and around her were several of her school-mates, both 
boys and girls, participating in the inspiring exercise. ^ They 
all seemed in a happy frame of mind, as if the pulse of life 
was beating sweetly within. Each ever and anon became the 
recipient of some delicate courtesy, on the part of the other, 
but the queen, toward whom universal homage fiowed, was, as 
usual, the fair Angeline. The rest seemed to press around 
her person with unaffected gladness, and to catch a new light 
of joy from her presence. 

Walter gazed upon the scene in mute rapture. He swal- 
lowed slowly his delicious sensations. He felt sure that he 
had not seen the fair girl of his heart look half so beautiful 
before. A soft, delicate flush suffused her countenance, that 


A DREAMT VISION. 


265 


imparted a peerless tint to her fine complexion. It seemed 
tlie bright rays of a glorious dawn mantling with celestial radi- 
ance, the azure heavens. Her bosom softly swelled and trem- 
bled as if in a giddy entrancement of some perennial joy. 
Her eyes by turns glowed with a melting tenderness, and then 
were lit up with a seraphic fire. It was the glowing inspira- 
tion of her singing, mingled with the sweet beatitude of feel- 
ing complacently beloved, that so transformed the girfs 
beauty into a loveliness supernal. But to the enrapturing 
eye of Walter, the vision before him seemed like the spirit 
of some dream, too fair for earth. In the language of 
Byron : — 

“ He gazed and turned away, he knew not where, 

Dazzled and drunk with beauty, till the heart 
Reeled with its fulness.” 

As we have already narrated, Walter loved Angeline at 
sight. The ray of passion that shot athwart the sympathetic 
chord of his breast, was not less instantaneous than the answer- 
ing touch of the electric wire. Yet time in her society had 
revealed qualities which deepened this first sentiment. Among 
these, and not the least, was the rich chorus of her voice. 
Angeline was by eminence the village songstress. Others 
among her fair companions could sing, but none like . her. 
When her voice was heard in melody, others were eclipsed, 
as the stars veil their faces before the glorious eye of day. 
She had attended to singing as a science, with the best advan- 
tages her native place afforded, but her melody was not mere 
intellectuality of expression, not stiff, studied art, but tones of 
natural accord flowing from the soul, a spontaneous gushing 
from the founts of nature, as the crystal stream oozes up from 
the pearly depths below. Her voice was clear, soft, melodi- 
ous ; now lit up with a smile, now shadowed by a tear, 

23 


266 


THE FISHER EOT. 


varied with the changing feeling of the moment. Her music 
seemed the voice of love. 

“ Music ! — O how faint, how weak, 

, Language fades before thy spell. 

Why should feeling ever speak 

When thou canst breath her soul so well.” 

Moore. 

Her silvery voice was always foremost in the church choir, 
and at the singing school ; and during the recesses and noon- 
ings of the- winter school, snatches of melody would here and 
there jet out from the wealth of her soul, like gleams of golden 
sunshine from the bursting, fleecy heavens. It was in such 
magical moments, that these breathing impulses of the soul, 
thrown off with the most unaffected, coyest grace, made the 
deepest impressions upon his heart. He drank in the stealing 
accents, as the first wild ^ bird that drinks the dew from the 
violets of spring. It warmed to flow the vital flood of his 
heart, and waked its folded buds to joyous blossoming. 

What power is there not in the music of the human voice ! 
With what a force of charni do not its sweet tender' accents 
fall upon the loving, susceptible heart of youth. Ah, woman ! 
what magic gifts are not thine ! With what ease canst thou 
hot glide into the Affections of man, and mould his sensibilities 
to thy will ! 

While thus gazing with unalloyed happiness, he was led to 
notice a young man, taller than the others, standing near 
Angeline, whose attentions seemed to partake of an earnest 
partiality. A vague trembling of heart arose at the suspicion. 
He scrutinized with anxious eye to see if these attentions were 
reciprocated by the fair girl. In the honesty of his heart, he 
could not discover that they were. Still, the warm courtesies 
of the young man gave him much uneasiu^^ujs. A sensation 


A RESOLVE. 


267 


such as he had never before experienced embittered his heart. 
The sweet tranquillity that he had before enjoyed, was all at 
once flown. The bright star that had beamed so richly upon 
him, had all at once sunk beneath the horizon of his soul. Li 
its place was left a green, sepulchral light, that grew more 
and more wan. 

The company within the school-room, began now moving to 
come away ; and Walter, in order not to be noticed, descended, 
and quietly retreated homeward. 

The night hung heavily in the sacred interests of his heart. 
It was the first pang in the crucifixion of his heretofore pure 
love existence, and the anguish he experienced rent his gentle 
spirit. It fell like a blight upon his warm, generous hopes. 
He tossed during the night upon his pillow, in feverish dis- 
quietude. He nursed the ill-starred offspring of his jaundiced 
imagination, until it overtopped his spirit like the craven 
nightmare. 

Yet, when serene morning dawned afresh, and he again 
sallied forth for school, in the vivifying air of heaven, he 
fell the sinister progeny of his brain to have fled, and his 
elastic spirit welcomed the wonted tone of his emotions. Still 
more, when he met at the school-room the angelic smile, the 
kindly tone, the cordial manner of Angeline, he felt it impos- 
sible that she could ever have thought of another, and he 
almost cursed the feeling that made him suspect a being so 
pure, so incapable of disappointing the fondest wish of his 
heart. 

Yet, after the first reaction of this noble impulse, there 
would occasionally arise in his breast, after all, a twinge of 
doubt. Slight circumstances in the manner of Angeline were 
distorted to his predjuice, and at times he felt very unhappy. 

He at length resolved to test his doubts. A thought as to 
the way, luckily came to his mind. He had received during 


268 


THE FISHER BOY. 


the winter many pressing invitations to be present at their 
evening singing-schools. Angeline, in her own artless way, 
had more than once joined her entreaties with the rest. He 
had always declined these, assigning as a reason the incon* 
venience of the distance, but really, perhaps, from the embar- 
rassment one feels, in being present with equals at an exer- 
cise in which he cannot participate. But now, under the 
warmth of his new grown purpose, all scruples melted at once. 
He would accept the very next invitation, that he might satisfy 
the unworthy suspicion whether or not there existed a mutual 
sentiment between Angeline and the young man who had 
awakened his jealousy on the evening of the rehersal. He 
would be able, he fancied, to determine as to the truth of his 
suspicions, by observing intently their mutual bearing. For- 
tune, that seemed guiding his fate, very soon threw an oppor- 
tunity in his path. One noon, while speaking of the singing- 
school, Angeline coquetishly reprimanded Walter for slight- 
ing all their invitations to attend. The boy, with a boldness 
he had never before shown in presence of the fair girl, pleas- 
antly retorted that he would be pleased to atone for his 
neglect, and that farther he should be most happy to accom- 
pany Miss Angeline to the very next meeting. There was 
quite a little congratulatory outburst at this announcement, so 
unexpected. 

It was a lovely moon-light evening that Walter set out to 
call upon Angeline, and go to the singing-school. His feelings 
were elate. A happiness was to be his, that he could hardly 
have dreamed of, as coming so soon. He was to be in tlie 
company of his beloved alone, to walk intimately by her side, to 
feel the sweet, gentle weight of her person upon his arm, in the 
hush of evening, when the shades of night could hide the 
blush of a too intimate word. Happy anticipation ! 

On a moment’s reflection, however, he perceived that he was 


OVERSHOOTING THE MARK. 


2G9 


acting rather from the dubious suggestions of his own heart, 
than following the sweet will of Angeline. It was not she that 
had graciously solicited his company, as the craving of her 
voluntary will, but he from motives of unworthy suspicion, 
had devised the step. This feeling troubled him greatly : it 
engendered a pang of remorse. It disturbed the purity of the 
sentiment hia heart so loved to entertain toward the single 
object of his love. 

Then how was he to secure the end he had proposed to 
himself, of determining whether the heart of the young girl 
was intact, or at least that her affections had been bestowed 
upon no otherl If he had contrived to drop in upon the 
singing-school, at the Old Hall, unexpected and unobserved, 
there would have been a chance to satisfy his doubts. He 
could at least have watched her deportment, unseen. But 
as it was, being her engaged partner for the evening, the 
commonest courtesy would keep him near her, and exclude 
the attentions of others. The thought perplexed him. He 
felt abashed at his own short-sighted simplicity. He per- 
ceived how following a too ardent impulse, he had overshot his 
mark, and he at once foresaw that he was going thus 
early to be smartly punished for his departure from the path 
of manly trust. He had not learned that the way of the 
transgressor is hard ; and that in the affairs of the heart, as 
in the business of life, he is apt to cut but a sorry figure, who 
deviates from the road of wonted integrity. 

But these wan lights of feeling soon burned up with a 
brighter glow. Was he not to possess for the evening, the 
young girl’s society ? The sweet thought gradually gained 
empire in his bosom, and banished all dark bodings. A 
jealous man is wont to gain confidence in the presence of his 
love. The sunshine of her person dissipates the cloud of 
23 * 


270 


THE FISHER BOY. 


suspicion, and he feels but too happy in the joy of the 
present. 

hie at length reached the home of Angeline. A maid in 
response to his gentle rap, appeared at the door. With falter- 
ing voice, he enquired for Miss Redcliff. 

“ She has been gone this half hour, to the singing school, ” 
replied the girl, with a tone of indifference. 

“ Gone ! ” repeated Walter in astonishment. 

“ Yes, with Charles Raymond.” 

“ Gone with Charles Raymond ! ” exclaimed the agitated 
boy, as a pang of phrenzy shot up from the depths of his soul. 

“ Yes, he comes here to call for her quite often.” 

Walter, at this intelligence, was struck, as may be supposed, 
with utter consternation. Bitter jealousy, wounded pride, 
and indignation at the treatment he had received, seized by 
turns his breast, and then mingled in one overpowering feeling 
of deep anguish. 

But the overmastering stroke of all, was the dark distrust 
which her apparent conduct had ushered in upon his soul, 
like the deepest gloom of night ; that pure, divine faith he 
had conceived in her unfaltering integrity shaken to its lowest 
foundation, and the whole superstructure of her beautiful 
perfections, that fancy had woven thereupon, crumbled to 
atoms, and melted like the baseless fabric of a dream. 

Underlying Walter’s fervent love for Angeline was his sure 
trust in her truthfulness of spirit. He felt this to be the 
golden cement of all her graces. If his bright imagination 
had decked her image in all the charms of his own susceptible 
heart, his sincere, earnest nature would fain have her as beau- 
tifully perfect in the larger virtues of an unshaken character. 
In his exacting conception of her perfectness, she was without 
crack or flaw. The circle was not more complete in its 


DISAPPOINTED LOVE. 


271 


symetrical roiindness ; the spheres not more harmonious in 
their sublime evolutions ; nature not less deviating in its 
silent, profound exactness ; nor the eternal laws less changing 
in the hand of omniscient power. Indeed, all these grand 
elements of the universe might be changed by the wise Law- 
giver, but how eould there be change in this pure, blissful 
object of his finest creation. No, she was pure, good, incor- 
ruptible ; incapable of deception or of change. Whatever 
might be his own fortune in securing the affections of Angeline, 
he could have no doubt of the native trueness of her soul. 
On this point, he could lay his head upon the pillow of her 
trusting soul, and sleep on in sweet, confiding repose, for- 
ever. 

Then how great was the shock of the hashing note that told 
him that she had left him, and her plighted word, and gone 
with another. To what a deep of depths it thrust the bright 
vision of his hopes ! How it struck out from his pure heaven 
all the glorious dreams of his future. How it paralyzed the 
tongue of his energies ! Into what abject distress it pros- 
trated his whole nature. 

Ah, how beautiful is that sweet, trustful love of the pure 
youthful heart in the perfection of woman. She lights before 
his radiant eyes, the brightest vision of earth, resplendent in 
the peerless charms of her outward form, and incomparably 
fascinating in the matchless graces that animate it. The 
magic, mystic tie of sex exalts in the imagination of man, all 
these native outward graces with which nature has en- 
robed her, to a bloom of inexpressible beauty. In this state, 
the fond, believing heart, assigns a corresponding perfection to 
all the attributes of the soul. It cannot be doubted that what 
is so lovely to the eye, must be correspondingly so to the 
mind and to the heart. Any other thought would be sacrilege, 
proianity. Alas ! that he should come later to learn, that the 


272 


THE FISHER BOY. 


sweetest joys are often the most fleeting, that the most precious 
objects of sense are often the most perishable, and that the 
most beautiful, the most lovely creature of nature, the perfec- 
tion of nature’s glorious handiwork, may be the weakest, the 
frailest thing of earth. 

Walter retraced his steps in a state of mind more easily 
conceived than expressed. At times the girl’s image would 
rise in his heart, in all her wonted fascination, and -a sweet 
tongue within would plead her innocence, on the ground of 
some misunderstanding ; then a feeling of bitterness would 
spring up, obliterating all the hopeful wishes. 

His way took him directly by the singing Hall. As he 
came abreast the Church Grave Yard, which was only on the 
opposite side of the road to the Hall, he stopped a few 
moments, hesitating whether to go in, or proceed on his 
way home. He could hear the choral voices, issuing from the 
hallowed building, and his heart palpitated with strong emotion, 
at the inspiring sounds. The moon was full up in the heavens. 
Fleecy shreds of clouds were scudding fleetly over her silvery 
disc, creating the illusion of rapid motion, on the part of the 
celestial queen herself. Indeed, she seemed to Walter to be 
hurrying across the arch of the sky, in order to dart off into 
illimitable space, and thus be rid of the unhappiness of earth. 
He would fain join her train, and be ushered into the regions 
of chaos. Turning toward the precints of the slumbering 
dead, a feeling of awe crept over his spirit. The shadows of 
the moon flitting across the gravestones and the straggling 
shrubbery, seemed like shades hovering in grief over the de- 
parted. His own affections, too, might be buried in a grave 
as deep. 

While thus musing, a slight rustling caused by the wind 
among the branches of an old elm near, drew his attention 
thither. In a moment his roving eye fell upon a female form 


ILL BODINGS DISSIPATED. 


273 


near. She was standing partially concealed by a mossy slab, 
her eyes gazing wistfully in the heavens. As a gleam from 
the moon lit up her face, he felt sure of having seen the coun- 
tenance before, but now there was a pallid expression fastened 
there, that made him shrink with awe. A few trembling mo- 
ments elapsed, before he could shake off the superstitious fear 
that had seized him, sufficiently to move from the spot to which 
he seemed rooted. But gaining at length the better of his 
weakness, he walked boldly toward the apparition, which 
glided rapidly away, as he approached, and soon disappeared 
entirely, as if dissolving into the surrounding air. 

Under the trepidation excited by this casual incident, he 
decided to go into the singing school. On entering, whom 
should his enquiring glance first meet, but the bright face of 
Angelin e. The fair girl was fully under the inspiring glow of 
singing. As her eye met Walter’s, a bright carnation man- 
tled her cheeks, that added a still deeper richness to her 
beauty. Indeed, she looked to Walter inexpressibly lovely. 
For the moment, all his bodings flew as upon winged steeds ; 
and a tranquil joy swelled through his breast that was mo- 
mentary happiness. 

When the exercises broke up, Walter, under the impulse of 
his haughty spirit, was proceeding to go directly home. But 
an acquaintance whom he met there for the first time, after a 
long absence, held him apart awhile in welcome interview. 
The rest of the company meanwhile ebbed out of the room 
slowly, as if held back by the lingering spell of song. Ange- 
line was among the very last to leave, making apparently a 
pretext for tarrying, by humming over the tunes given out for 
the next week’s meeting. Yet she evinced an embarrased and 
impatient air. The quick eye of Walter noticed this, but he 
was at loss to divine its cause. At length, as Walter was 
moving to go out, Angeline herself cloaked and hooded for the 


274 


THE FISHER BOY. 


wintry air, brushed by him, near enough for a mutual recogni- 
tion. Charles Raymond followed after her, and as he came 
up on the stair-way, solicited the favor of accompanying her 
home. But Walter was filled with surprise to hear the girl 
respectfully but firmly decline. An irresistible emotion im- 
pelled him to follow after them. In the street, Charles 
repeated his solicitation to Angeline, which was the second 
time declined, yet he clung to the girl’s side, as if destitute of 
the commonest sentiment of courtesy. At this outrage upon 
manliness, Walter’s soul boiled with shame. He walked up, 
and addressed Angeline, more as a protector, than a rival. 
She accepted with evident gladness, and even nestled to his 
side, as if with a sense of security from annoying intrusion. 
Charles still followed after for some distance, then approached 
and bidding Angeline good evening, in a most awkward man- 
ner, slunk away homeward. 

It was a happiness as unexpected, as keen, to find himself 
alone by the side of Angeline, her accepted companion. The 
unspeakable delight at first fettered his tongue, and filled his 
every movement with ungainliness. Yet, the girl’s going off 
with Charles, and thus breaking her engagement to him, was 
an incident enshrouded in a good deal of mystery. But a 
few simple words from her pure lips cleared that up. In 
Walter’s invitation, the expression ran, that he would see her 
to the singing school, intending to convey the idea of calling 
for her at her father’s, while she took it to mean, meeting her 
at the Hall, and thence seeing her home. The ambiguity of 
the phrase was the occasion of the mistake, in which Walter 
confessed himself at once at fault. Her going with Charles 
was on her part, a mere neighborly courtesy. She could not 
have avoided it without being rude. 

The sands of time in the Winter’s school had nearly run 
out. The teacher conceived it desirable to close up with an 


CLOSE OF SCHOOL. 


275 


exhibition of his school, that, while it should show the pupils* 
progress, would at the same time, serve to embalm in their 
breasts, his winter’s labors. Walter and Angeline, with the 
rest, took a conspicuous part. This brought them much to- 
gether, and under very agreeable circumstances. But each 
preserved toward the other a delicate reserve, often reaching 
to an embarrassment that betrayed their mutual interests, and 
fanned the flame they strove in vain to conceal. 

Yet toward the other boys, Angeline was the same coy, 
blithesome, graceful being, as at the commencement of the 
school. 

Among the conceits that not uncommonly break out among 
scholars at school, was that started by some fanciful youth, of 
the boys’ exchanging letters with the girls, at the close of the 
school. It was to assume the character of a parting memento. 

This sweet device, savoring quite of gallantry, contributed 
to swell the tender enthusiasm that had been ripening mutu- 
ally in the breast of the school. There was about it a tinge 
of delicate romance. A dreamy sentiment, a warm word 
could be dropped in these poetry-epistles of school affection 
that would paralize the tongue of bashful youth in conversa- 
tion. Ah, how sweet to youth is the fragrant breath of its 
own warm heart ! 

Walter was to reciprocate billets with several of the girls, 
and among the rest, with Angeline. After much pains-taking 
he succeeded in something that answered his taste, for the 
others, but when he came to Angeline, he felt greatly embar- 
rassed. . He could not summon forth the sentiments that suited 
his feelings, and the choicest language he could command 
seemed too poor for her exquisite ear. He wished to express 
himself so as to portray the inspiration glowing in his soul, 
yet in a manner so delicate and reserved as to run no risk 
of offending her sensibilities. He wished the language itself 


276 


THE FISHER BOY. 


to breathe the fervor of his own heart,. He would fain en- 
kindle in the breast of Angeline the sweet affection that 
eddied in his own warm nature. But, alas ! how impotent 
did he feel for this end. He would willingly have pledged a 
lifetime of study and practice, could he have possessed for but 
a moment the eloquence which this culture would secure him. 

He labored long at his delightful effort. He brooded over 
it by day, and it mingled by night with his dreams. He 
attempted over and over again to embody with clearness the 
vague conceptions of his brain. But nothing suited him. 
This expressed too little, that too much; here he had di- 
vulged his sentiments too nakedly ; there his thoughts were 
too concealed. Th^se, too animated, those, too tame. Thus 
days and nights melted into the oblivion of the past. 

At length he awake one morning sweetly refreshed. The 
evasive lucubration of his brain had taken to itself a graceful 
shape. It now lay in his mind a little poem of his heart, 
each word of which was a tendril chord of love. Seizing his 
pen, the bright sentences reeled off like golden tlireads, and 
the letter was completed to his joyful enthusiasm. 

He next began fondly to speculate upon the complexion of 
Angeline’s missive to him. Hope pictured to his heart the 
bright dreams of anticipation, and time dallied with his 
feelings with sweetly painful suspense. 

Examination day came. The room had been scrubbed 
and decorated, and looked now, neatly fresh and verdant. 
Teachers, pupils, parents and friends all assembled, over- 
flowing the rustic temple of learning with ardent, enthusiastic 
nature. Garbed with tidiest care, and each face wearing its 

sweetest look, the whole scene had the bloom of the mornino- 

o 

rose. Each bosom kindled with varied emotion, but a com- 
mon sympathy swayed a sentiment of grateful accord. 

. All passed off with mutual satisfaction. Each congratu- 


EXCHANGE OF BILLETS. 


277 


lated the other, and received a heightened recompense in the 
generosity of his own feelings. As the weight of anxiety 
was lifted from one and another breast, the heart leaped up 
with bounding joy, and the countenances of all became 
wreathed in sunny smiles. The remarks of the committee 
and the closing address of the teacher were eloquent and 
affecting, because falling upon sympathetic ground. A happy 
school-closing is one of the bright days of a pupil’s life. 

Next came the exchange of billets. Walter hurried away 
with Angeline’s, under a feverish impatience. How neat and 
beautiful its fbrm ! How sweet and dainty the superscrip- 
tion ! His heart panted for the delicious draught awaiting 
for him within. He opened it. It was Aice, pretty, written 
with care ; but he looked in vain for the fervor that glowed 
in his own bosom. A seeming coldness pervaded the lines, 
that sent a chill to his feelings. He felt disappointed. How 
easy to foster into life some sweet dream of our own wishes, 
until a touch of the Ithureal spear of reality dispels the 
illusion and brings dreariness to our hopes. 

But on re-perusing day by day the gentle billet-doux, a 
new spirit seemed to exude from its delicate lines, and, ere 
long, it became linked to his heart in golden association 
with the happy vision of his life. 

24 


CHAPTER XX. 


“ ’T is a history, 

Handed from ages down ; a nurse’s tale — 

Which children, open-eye’d and mouth’d, devour; 

And thus as garrulous ignorance relates, . 

• We learn it and believe.” — Southey’s Thalaba. 

That ’s a strange story about the Yonker, “ line. Oaker/' 
mused Walter. 

“ I agree that it is,” replied the venerable fisherman, “ but 
I believe from my soul ’tis true, every word of it, for I fancy 
having once seen the strange sight myself, and if I didn’t, I 
know enough persons that have.” 

“ Be so good as to narrate the particulars,” resumed Wal- 
ter, with an accent of lively curiosity ; “ I have often heard 
the story mentioned, but have never been able to learn a full 
account of it.” 

“That would take too long time just now,” replied the 
fisherman, “ but the upshot of the affair in a few words, as I 
have heard it, is this : — 

“There once lived on the Beach, near the bend of the 
Cove, a strange, mysterious man and a young woman, whom 
people took for his daughter. They lived together aU alone 
in the sorriest looking hut that can be imagined. It was 
framed with drift-stuff*, filled in with meadow-turf, beach- 
grass, and sea-weed. They used the joints of a whale’s back- 
bone for stools, and shark’s jaws bristling with teeth were 
stuck here and there on the sides of the hut. 


( 278 ) 


STORY OF THE YONKER. 


279 


“ The old man was small of stature, with a sunburnt, briny- 
face. He wore a thick, full beard, flowing almost to his 
knees, which was sprinkled with gray. His feet were covered 
with some tough dried skin, which was laced up his leg, 
serving as a boot. A fur skin fell from his shoulders, which 
was girded around his waist. This was turned according to 
the weather, sometimes presenting the fur, at others the skin, 
outward. Upon his head was a curiously formed cap of 
birds’ skins. A fowling piece, fishing-rod, draille, and net 
were the only articles he was seen to have. 

“ The young woman was garbed in a similar manner as 
the man, except that in cold weather she wore a close hood, 
enveloping completely her head, neck and face, with apertures 
for her eyes, and in summer an enormous brimmed hat, with 
gauze veil stretched around the brim. 

“ She always accompanied the old man whenever he went 
out, whatever might be the inclemency of the weather, but 
she was never seen to assist him, or exert herself in aid, in 
any manner whatever. 

“ All who had ever caught a glimpse of the young woman 
bore the same testimony, that she possessed a gentle, feminine 
countenance of great sweetness. There was a delicacy in 
her limbs, and a grace in her movements that was quite mar- 
vellous. But she seemed bound to the old wretch, whose 
footsteps she -everywhere followed with undeviating constancy. 

“ They avoided society, and shunned the gaze of curiosity. 
No one could be found who had ever spoken to them, and an 
impenetrable mystery hung about their pathway. 

“ One day, after a dreadful shipwreck that happened 
near here, when the few survivors had crowded upon the 
beach, this young woman was seen to issue from the hut, and 
stealthily hold a conversation with one of the sailors. Since 
that time neither the old man nor the young woman, his com- 
panion, have been seen or heard from. 


280 


THE FISHER BOY. 


“On searching their hut nothing was found save a few 
cooking utensils, and a knife, rusty and clotted with blood. 

“ Various have been the stories as to the existence and fate 
of these strangers. The more common belief is that the old 
man was some son ' of Neptune who, having captured a fair 
passenger from a ship in the Indian seas, bore her to this 
distant shore, and bound her in a perpetual vow of celibacy 
to his destiny. But having broken her vow by talking with 
the young sailor, she expiated her fault by death, inflicted by 
this son of Neptune. 

“ From that time shrieks and groans, as from a person in 
death agony, were not unfrequently heard near the spot where 
stood the hut ; and of a dark, lowering night, persons were 
wont often to see a strange, uneartlily light, that while it 
filled them with horrid fear, exercised over them a mysterious 
fascination to lure them far away down the beach.” 

This conversation passed between Walter and one of the 
crew, while on their way, to haul off the fishing pink for 
another summer’s cruise. The boy had compromised with 
his mother for one more season at sea. The experience of 
the past year had only awakened a stronger propensity for an 
ocean life, and he would fain have consummated his darling in- 
tention of rushing on board a square-rigger in the merchant 
service but for the- anguish he saw such a step would bring to 
the heart of his poor mother. 

Their thick-set boat moiled her way lazily through the 
crisping waves, fanned by a gasping air ; and it was quite 
dark before they struck the shore of the beach at all. And 
when they did, finding themselves only at the Inward Point, 
some five miles from the outward one, they very naturally 
decided to haul up where they were, and tarry for the night. 
So turning over their boat under the lea of a hillock, and 
banking her cozily up with sea-weed, they were, in snug con- 
dition for a night’s slumber. 


A SPECTRAL LIGHT. 


281 


But Walter could not tie down his wakeful spirit so readily. 
The buoyancy of limb that comes, upon first springing ashore, 
after wearisome confinement in a boat, took possession of 
him. The associations of the previous spring, too, imparted 
liveliness to his feelings. Under the double influence, he 
bounded off* with some others for the genial luxury of a 
stroll. It was, of course, a mere aimless ramble, and for that 
all the more delightful. 

Falling into an abstracted mood, he soon found himself 
apart from the others. Striking the East shore, he padded 
over the smooth, shelving beach, his eye drinking in the 
inspiration of the dusky scenery, his mind hovering upon the 
dream-land of Fancy. 

The flap of a sea-gull disturbed his reverie, when he became 
aware how far he had wandered, from the boat. Night had 
completely assumed her reign, having let down her dark cur- 
tain in the West. 

With a slight apprehension that he might lose his way he 
set off* with nervous step to return. Before making half his 
distance, he felt conscious of becoming fairly bewildej-ed. 
There was not the vestige of a guide to direct his uncertain 
foot-steps. The way, too, was precarious. Hillock and hol- 
low, marsh and creek, staggered his faltering feet. 

The brisk exercise had warmed his blood, which in turn 
imparted a tinge of fervor to his mind. The embarrassnient 
of his situation filled with disquietude his feelings. Imagina- 
tion was busy amid the supernatural, and Memory turned to 
the story of the Yonker. 

Amid this hallucination, his perception was seized with a 
blue spectral light in the distance. The vision quickly ap- 
proached him, enlarging and assuming a deep, fiery aspect 
until within a few yards, when, exploding with a loud noise, 
the scintillation shot off* from the centre, and arraigned in a 
24 * 


282 


THE FISHER BOY. 


circle of deep brilliancy. Witliin the starry belt, the outline of 
a Imman face gradually appeared to his wild gaze. The sight 
seized him with profound terror. The figure struck him as 
the same features that had so often haunted his footsteps, only 
now the hair stood out dishevelled, as if streaming in the 
breeze, and upon the haggard, suffering countenance, were here 
and there large clots of blood. Continuing to approach, the 
dismal apparition now stood within fearful nearness of his own 
person, when a piercing shriek, as of excruciating anguish, 
rent the air and fell with lightning thrill upon the ear of 
Walter. Under the shock, he swooned to the earth in a par- 
oxyism of terror, and in a moment all consciousness had faded 
from his mental vision. 

On returning to consciousness, he was aware of but little 
more than the cold touch of the ground, the stark chill of the 
evening air, while a ghastly vision haunted his memory. He 
arose to his feet, and with stiffened limbs set out anew. For 
some time he wandered over the grizzly beach in hopeless be- 
wilderment. And he was on the point of yielding to despair, 
when his eye fixed itself with beaming hope upon a faint light 
in the distance. He had before thought it only some inferior 
star in the distant vault ; but now, suddenly, as if by revela- 
tion, he felt it must be a stationary light upon the beach. He 
followed it, and was led directly to the boat, where the light 
had been set by the thoughtful crew, as a beacon to guide 
back the strolling hands. 

They listened with speechless awe to the curdling narration 
of Walter. All the wild accounts afloat of the Yonker were 
but too true. It were sacrelegious to speak lightly of the mys- 
terious affair ever again. Seamen are affected by the marvel- 
lous and the strange. Stories of the supernatural thrill a con- 
genial chord of their nature. 

The next morning, the wind being contrary for sailing, it 


A TERRIFIC GALE. 


283 


was thought most expeditious to tow their boat along shore to 
the Powder Hole, where the vessel on which they were to 
embark for the summer’s fishing cruise, had lain through the 
winter, hauled up on the flats. 

But they found it a wearying toil, it being half tide, and the 
current setting perseveringly against them ; and the bold 
energy and stout muscles of the crew were put fairly to the 
test, by the time they had reached the Point. Here they 
found their old low decked schooner, moored by her weight 
upon the uncomplaining flat, as an overtasked mortal resting 
from his labors. She was mouldy as a long neglected cheese ; 
but after much scrubbing and drying, the quaint cabin was 
rendered tenable, and exhausted by the stretch of the day’s 
tug, they were all very willing to embrace eaidy the night’s 
slumber. 

As indifferent as they had become to objects around them, 
by the mere sinking of physical energy, they could not but be 
struck by the exceeding serenity and beauty of the closing 
day. Not a breath of air ruflled the glassy bosom of the 
ocean. Not a speck of cloud could be seen in the heavenly 
vault. The atmosphere exhibited a transparency rarely 
noticed. In the midst of the universal calm, the sun fell 
behind the western horizon, like a golden ball dropped into a 
sea of molten lead. It was as if Nature had paused to contem- 
plate the sublimity of creation. 

But this lovely grace of Nature proved but the hectic blush 
that bodes dissolution. In less than three hours after sunset, 
there burst forth one of the most furious and awful gales 
within the remembrance of the oldest of the crew. It seemed 
as if Nature, repenting her own existence, had turned in awful 
phrenzied power upon self-destruction. Life and nature are 
full of contrasts, but none had been experienced greater thau 
this. 


284 


THE FISHER BOY 


The irrepressible force of the gale drove in the dead lights 
of their vessel, and no efforts on the part of the most skilful 
could secure them back in their place. The lights were in 
consequence extinguished, and the cabin drenched with driv- 
ing spray and sleet. It was a dreadful night, even to the 
housed fishermen ; what must it have been then to the unpro- 
tected seaman upon the angry waves. Walter thought he had 
never before experienced so much suffering. He was pre- 
pared to expect hard exposure at sea, but so much of it, 
snugly ensconsed in a vessel’s cabin upon the land, was un- 
looked for by him. In this cold and gloomy predicament, 
they shivered through the night. 

Early in the morning, covering their shivering bodies with 
clothing as best they could, the crew, one and all, crawled 
upon deck, with a shuddering curiosity. The scene was ter- 
rific. The energy of the raging elements nearly took the 
breath out of Walter. The ocean all around was lashed wildly 
into foam and spray. Nought could be seen above but the 
imperious storm-cloud that seemed to hug the earth and sea 
with phrenzy. The rain, wreathed by the intenseness of the 
wind into coarse mist, now drove in blinding thickness, now in 
cutting blasts. The tide, goaded by the maddened sea, had 
swollen above the low beach where they w^ere, and the whole 
point of land forming the harbor had become submerged 
beneath the clashing waters. One would have said that 
remorseless ocean had made a suceessful war upon earth, and 
that hereafter man was to be tossed forever upon the treacher- 
ous wave. 

As soon as a lull enabled the crew to peer through the 
storm, something broke upon their straining vision, 

“ What w'^as it ? ” 

“ A wreck.” 

“ Where ? ” 


A VESSEL WRECKED. 


285 


“ Ashore upon the Shovel-Full.” 

“ Gracious heavens ! ” 

“ Can we get to her ? ” 

“ No ; impossible at present.” 

Their manly sympathies were aroused to the utmost. The 
'ill-fated vessel, with keel apparently welded to the sandy bot- 
tom, reeled like a drunken man. The fretted waves dashed 
over her with engulfing impetuosity. Her dishevelled ropes 
streamed in the wind, and she looked forlorn and touching. 
What more pitiful than the spectacle of a wrecked vessel at 
the mercy of the maddened elements ! 

But their deep solicitude for the vessel paled by the side of 
the awful apprehension felt for the fate of her company. Had 
they been suddenly precipitated to a watery grave ? or were 
they still hanging upon the wreck in dreadful suspense ? 

With the genuine, noble sympathies of honest, simple na- 
tures, they watched the vessel with sleepless vigilance. At 
length people were descried on board. . What a thrill of ex- 
citement the vision sent through their bosoms ! How every 
impulse of their big hearts leapt forth and nerved itself to 
attempt a rescue ! 

The wind by this time had veered from the east into the 
south-west. It had moderated its fury, and the drenching 
clouds had rolled back in the sky in distant threatening. The 
water too, obeying the general subsidence, had ebbed from the 
beach. 

It was still thought too hazardous to attempt boarding the 
distressed vessel ; but they found no difficulty in pulling ashore 
to the inward bend ; and gathering in a knot upon the grassy 
beach, awaited with intense anxiety an opportunity for extend- 
ing relief. • 

Presently the people on board were noticed to move about. 


286 


THE FISHER BOY. 


They seemed earnestly engaged upon something. Wliat 
could it be ? Soon their long-boat danced upon the water, 
under the lee of the vessel. What were they going to attempt ? 
To land? Preposterous ! They would certainly be engulfed. 
The crew ashore, in the earnestness of their sympathetic 
nature, made the most energetic signs in their power to dis-’ 
suade those on board from so dangerous an exploit as the trial 
to land. 

Under ordinary circumstances, the waves, under the hercu- 
lean force of the gale, exposed to the whole range of the 
Atlantic, would have run with a mountain height, to menace 
the sure engulfing of so small a craft as a ship’s long-boat, 
but here, checked in their impetuous career by a strong counter 
current that forever ran with the speed of a race-horse around 
the Point, had thrown them into a wild, tumultuous fury, that 
made it seem impossible for a boat to live a moment amid the 
breakers. 

Then the peril of the landing was imminent. The shore, 
from the tide mark, was shelving, running quickly off to great 
depth into the ocean. The mountain waves would roll in, 
with careering sublimity, strike upon the shore, and run foam- 
ing to a great distance up the hard sanded floor of the landing, 
and then retreat as hastily. The under current thus formed, 
was so overpowering as to render extremely uncertain the 
most energetic efforts to extricate one’s self from the surf, and 
mjike way up the beach. 

But no such difficulties seemed to daunt the wrecked sea- 
men. In due time their boat was seen to part from their ves- 
sel. Fearful moment! Their fate hung upon how slender a 
thread ! How much were not a few short moments to reveal ! 

As to the crew ashore, they could scarcely believe their 
eyes. As they gazed in amazement, their hearts froze in 


THRILLING SCENE. 


287 


alann. More from instinct than reason, they sprang and 
fetched from their boat ropes, oars, and everything they had, 
which they thought could possibly aid in the rescue. 

The landing boat experienced the most thrilling vicissitudes. 
She looked so potentless amid the angry, surging billows. At 
one moment she would disappear entirely from view. 

“ There, she ’s gone ! ” would exclaim with bitter anguish, 
some one of the anxious fishermen. 

“ No, there she is ! ” would shout another, as she was again 
tossed to view. 

As she neared the shore, escaping every danger, as if kept 
by some guardian divinity, Walter’s searching eye fell upon a 
female form, enveloped in the folds of a cloak, and reclining 
upon the stern sheets. At the unexpected sight, his sympa- 
thies were excited to their utmost. Curiosity, tender sym- 
pathy, thrilling heroism all possessed him, and raised his soul 
to conscious power. 

As the boat touched the shore, another billow struck her 
fated sides, and capsized the frail bark in the surf. A wild 
shriek rent the air. Walter, rushing forth in consternation, 
sprung into the foaming surf. 

The boy knew no more, until finding himself upon the 
beach by the side of the rescued female, with both boats’ crews 
endeavoring to recall the swooned female to life. 

She at len*gth opened languidly her eyes, and murmuring 
faintly the words, “My father,” sunk back from the undue 
effort. She was quickly conveyed to the light-house, not far 
distant, where all means that Christian hearts could suggest, 
were used for her immediate restoration. 

The fishing crew with grateful hearts returned to their ves- 
sel, and after Refreshing themselves with food and slumber, 
entertained each other in recounting the thrilling marvels of 
the boat’s landing. 


288 ' 


THF FISHER BOY. 


It appeared that the wrecked seamen, hurled into the mad- 
dening surf, struggled long, but ineffectually, against the 
powerful under current. Perceiving their case to be hopeless, 
the fishing crew, with the clear eye of experience, seized upon 
the only means of their rescue. Binding ropes to two of the 
most athletic of their number, these rushed into the surf, seized 
each a drowning man, when the two were hauled ashore by 
the nervous arms upon the beach. Walter, the first rescued, 
was found clasped in a drowning embrace, by the young 
woman whom he had with so generous an impulse perilled his 
own life to save, and the two, perfectly unconscious, were fast 
drifting seaward. 

Early the next morning, a messenger appeared by the side 
of the vessel, bringing invitation that the father of the rescued 
lady craved the happiness of seeing the fishing crew at the 
light-house, to express acknowledgments for the priceless favor 
he had received from the strangers. He was a Polish exile 
of noble birth, seeking a home in the new world, where he 
had friends that had preceded him. Curiosity in the bosoms 
of the crew mingled with a natural emotion of complacency, 
prompted them to see the noble strangers again, and receive 
their heartfelt thanks. Accordingly, each decked himself in 
his best, and all set out for the light-house. Here they were met 
by the grateful father, who, overcome with emotions of gratitude 
towards his deliverers, lavished upon them every testimony 
his soul could command, of his grateful love. He seized the 
hand of each in tenderness, and pressed it to his bosom. He 
hung fervently upon their necks, and kissed their bronzed 
cheeks in manly emotion. He laid at their feet all his little 
wealth, saved from his vast fortune, — his money and jewels. 
These the noble fishermen absolutely declined accepting. 

As they were about leaving, it was announced that the 
rescued lady could not be persuaded to neglect the opportu- 


A POLISH LADY IN PERIL. 


289 


nity of adding her grateful thanks to those of the father. She 
was still verj weak, and her physician deemed any undue 
excitement as dangerous to her recovery, but the feelings of 
nature in her breast overbore those of prudence. 

As each one of the crew, in turn, was conducted to the side 
of the suffering lady, who lay bolstered upon a couch, she 
seized with emotion his hand, pressed it first to her lips and 
then to her heart, in mute but fervent gratitude. She pos- 
sessed no tongue with which to express the feelings of her 
soul, but there was about her slightest movement a sweet, lofty, 
grace, and there beamed in her countenance a smile so inef- 
fably thankful, that the hardy crew would have felt repaid a 
thousand fold for any dangers they had encountered, in effect- 
ing her rescue, even if the deed itself had not brought with it 
its own sweet reward. 

As Walter approached her bed-side, she gazed for a mo- 
ment intently into his face; then seeming to recognize his 
features, her countenance suddenly lit up with a tint of im- 
mortal bloom ; her eyes moistened in deep tenderness ; and 
her whole frame shook with emotion. Grasping his hand in 
both hers, with eyes imploringly uplifted, she was about press- 
ing it earnestly to her breast, when overtasked nature gave 
way, and she fell back apparently lifeless. 

All other attentions were now lost in solicitude for the faint- 
ing girl ; and Walter, with the crew, fearing their presence 
might but add to the general embarrassment, quietly with- 
drew. ' 

The next morning they were informed that the young 
Polish lady, though feeble, had been restored to consciousness. 
Although she had received a deep shock from the scenes of 
the previous day, yet she was not deemed dangerously ill ; 
and if no new circumstance conspired to derange her nervous 
system, she might look to a restoration in a few days. 

25 


290 


THE FISHER BOY. 


The intelligence came with especial delight to Walter. 
Aside from the feelings of humanity, he owned in his heart to 
a peculiar interest felt for the fair stranger. It might be 
traced to the self-forgetful heroism of his own conduct; it 
might proceed from the charm of her noble grace ; the mys- 
tery of her life, or the peculiar relations in which he found 
himself with her, and the passionate tenderness of her grati- 
tude. Whatever it might proceed from, yet as he contemplated 
her beauteous form in the silence of liis thought, he felt a 
strange emotion arise within him. But when the image of 
Angeline sprang in his breast, that of the fair stranger faded 
into oblivion. It was the paling of the moon before the glow- 
ing god of day. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


“ What a damp hangs on me ! 

These sprightly, tuneful airs but skim along 
The surface of my soul, — not enter there ; 

She does not dance to this enchanting sound. 

How like a broken instrument, beneath 
The skilful touch, my joyless heart lies dead ! 

Nor answers to the master’s hand divine ! ” 

Young’s Brothers. 

It was a beautiful morning in June, that a fine looking 
schooner might have been seen just rounding to, in the time- 
honored anchorage of the Deep Hole. Presently a small 
boat, manned with five hands, darted from the vessel, and 
pulled briskly for the shore. One of the buoyant spirits 
aboard this gay little carrier was Walter Carl. 

Two fruitful years have elapsed since we parted the boy’s 
company upon the old gray beach. In this bright interval, 
we shall find that time has sat but lightly upon his fair brow. 
Fortune has not withheld him her smiling face; and with 
benignant Nature, he has found boon companionship. 

Having gradually overcome the scruples of his mother 
against a sea-life, he had at length escaped the uncongenial 
employment of Fishing, and he now found himself greatly 
more happy, in the larger variety of life to be met with in the 
Coasting Trade. This rambling manner of sailing, enabled 
him to venture farther and farther from home, until his last 
absence had been a very delightful trip to one of the West 
India Islands. 

The sunny south, with its gorgeous scenery, its sensuous air, 
its languid, passionate life, and its picturesque costume, while 

( 291 ) 


292 


THE FISHER BOY. 


It cast a delicious dreamy charm over all his faculties, but 
deepened the sentiment of love that glowed in his heart. 

But in all respects, Walter was not the same boy as in the 
tender years of childhood. Busy Time had left happy traces 
of his sculpturing fingers upon his person ; and the actual of 
life had expanded his intelligence and schooled his spirit. 
Ilis glossy, raven locks had assumed a rich brown color. His 
sweet, piercing eye had become more tender, calm and 
spiritual. His delicate, fragile form had developed to a 
stoutness, that seemed to indicate strength in repose. His 
soft, fair complexion had ripened into a rich color, resembling 
that of the maturing fruit. Indeed, his person, bearing, and 
expression betokened a gain in character, courage and manli- 
ness, traits not always overlooked even by the finer delicacy 
of the female eye. 

Walter bounded over the beach toward his dear home, with 
gladsome feet. Oh, how joyful was the anticipation of the 
meeting with his endeared mother ! He knew that her love 
for him was deep, sincere, purged from all earthly dross — 
that it came from the bottom of her heart. Time and distance 
and silent nature, when alone in the dark night-watch, and in 
the more lonely haunts of strange men, had awakened the 
filial sentiment in his own breast to a passion. 

To feel beloved is sweet, but to feel assured that this love 
springs from a truthful, strong, disinterested soul, a soul capa- 
ble of appreciating worth, of comprehending the nature of its 
own passion, of making the sacrifices which true love requires, 
this brings a tranquil security of joy, that is happiness in its 
most blessed state. 

Walter was taking along with him a little money, the earn- 
ings of his voyage, — a few gift-articles, the products of the 
torrid zone, gathered on his way ; such as fruit, preserves, 
wine, birds, and beautiful shells ; trifies they might be in them- 


FILIAL ATTACHMENT. 


293 


selves, but were they not earned by his own honest arm ? the 
relics of his own travels ? and they would be presented as the 
gifts of affection. They could not but bring a gleam of sun- 
shine to the brow of his mother, and cast a gilding ray upon 
her declining years. She who had striven so hard, had suf- 
fered so deeply, had waited so long and patiently, had done 
all, getting nothing in return, was now to be assured that the 
day of recompense though often long deferred, yet surely 
cometh. Walter felt a peculiar joy in being able to bestow 
even so little. He had so long been the recipient, having 
nothing but gratitude and thanks to return for favors, that 
this power of giving something substantial brought to his 
breast a feeling of peculiar pride and pleasure. He only 
wished it were greater, that he had possessed the wealth of 
the Indies, to lay at her honored feet. 

Very soon Walter was locked in the affectionate embrace 
of his mother. How richly blessed was the moment to the 
loving woman ! Hope and anticipation were blended in joyful 
fruition. How her heart thrilled with gratitude, as she thought 
how many others had found a watery grave, or had been cut 
off by pestilential disease, while her noble boy had been re- 
turned to her. Then he came to her in blooming health, a 
picture of life and beauty. More than all, he had come to 
her bosom, his heart untravelled, his purity unsullied. She 
felt this in his fragrant breath, she read it in his clear, tranquil 
eye. She knew it by the instincts of maternal love. 

Having decked himself tidily in garments which the fond 
hand of affection had so nicely prepared and held in store for 
him, he sauntered out amid some of the localities about his 
home which were so endeared to his youthful association. He 
then ventured farther, strolling off to the haunts which he re- 
membered Angeline was in the habit of frequenting. Indeed, 
he more than half wished to meet the fair girl, or at least 

25 * 


294 


THE FISHER BOY. 


catch a glimpse of her dear form. But so early pleasure was 
not to be his. 

The next day was the Sabbath. It was a lovely morning, 
serene, sunny, soft, fresh as the dew, and fragrant as the 
breath of new mown hay. The birds carrolled gladsomely 
amid the trembling foliage, and the roses blushed with modest 
joy, under the windows. Indeed, it was one of those days, 
that seem nectar-drops from the full bumper of heaven. 

He set off with the rest of the family for the Parish Church, 
with lustrous feelings, with the feelings of ardent youth just 
returned from lohg absence, expecting from others the same 
joyful welcome that was glowing in his own breast. 

As he entered the portal of the Church, his bosom swelled 
with delightful emotions. He was everywhere greeted with 
expressions of warm, gracious welcome ; yet his eye did not 
fall upon Angeline. But he felt sure of seeing her as beau- 
tiful as ever in the choir, from which she rarely absented 
herself. Yet after the first prayer, rising with the congrega- 
tion, and turning with expected hope toward the singers, how 
blank was his disappointment to perceive her place vacant. 
A feeling of painful solicitude seized him. Why was she 
absent ? indisposition, absence from home, indifference to his 
return, which she must have known. Was it any of these, or 
what was it that had kept her away? Cruel conjecture 
haunted his breast for the rest of the day. He breathed his 
own jaundiced sentiments, rather than the hallowed incense of 
the house of God. So easy is it to pervert the heaven within 
us, and change the milk of love into the gall of human bit- 
terness. 

His steps homeward were languid. The night was dream- 
less of joy. The next day and the days following were 
passed upon the rack of suspense. Suspicion, with heavy 
armor, clanged at his footsteps. He could learn nothing of 


DISQUIETUDE. 


295 


Angeline. He dared not even ask. He greatly feared to 
betray the intensity of his feelings. Like the murderer, he 
bore about him concealed the momentous secret of his heart, 
until every shadow seemed endowed with a searching eye to 
penetrate his secret, and a trumpet tongue to proclaim it to 
the world. 

At length, in one of those bold moments that accompany 
an excited mind, he resolved upon knowing his fate ; seizing a 
pen, he addressed Angeline, soliciting the pleasure of an in- 
terview at her father’s on an appointed evening. Too impa- 
tient CO wait the tedious course of the mail, and not carins: 
to entrust the important missive in the hands of another, he 
fiUed the little trust of messenger himself. 

The maid who came to the door, at Mr. E-edcliff’s, received 
Walter’s billet with a bland smile, and the boy flew home- 
ward with a beating pulse. 

Yet he felt much disquietude of mind as to the propriety of 
the step he had taken. Would she not deem it presumptuous 
in him to address her so boldly, and might it not wound her 
delicacy to be thus drawn into a disclosure of her real senti- 
ments toward him ? Then how brief was the interval between 
him and his fate. He could wish even to prolong his trouble- 
some suspense, if ill fortune was to be his. He trembled as 
upon the verge of a chasm that might yawn and engulf him. 

Time, with unwearied wing, at length ushered in the eve of 
his appointment. Attiring himself with fastidious care, he set 
out with nervous step for the house of Angeline. The even- 
ing was calm. A gentle quiet reigned around, a placid sweet 
ness distilled upon his spirit, but he was stirred too deeply 
within to be soothed by the velvet hand of nature. 

The cottage of Angeline presently broke to view. It was 
nestled modestly behind a small garden of shrubbery and 
flowers, which were rippling in the moonlight sheen, as if to 


296 


THE FISHER BOY 


waft him with gracious welcome. How exciting the vision ! 
He stood a moment in the garden path. A light glimmered 
softly through the shutters of the green blinds, and the door 
stood slightly ajar. Was it not a token of expectance and 
welcome ? How blissful the thought ! There are moments 
in which are distilled the joy of years. 

At his gentle tap, the fair girl came instantly to the door. 
The very promptness of her movement was a volume of 
sweet revelation to his heart. How perfectly beautiful did 
she appear to the boy’s enraptured eyes. How neatly attired, 
how exquisite her toilet, how tasteful her decoration, and, 
more than all, what a sweet smile of grace lit up her features 
as she blandly welcomed him in. Wealth and Fashion may 
gild their votaries with the fabrics of earth, and the gems of 
the sea, but there lies in the simple taste of nature, a wondrous 
skill that can surpass the most cunning devise of art. 

The evening passed most happily with Walter. A serene 
joy filled his heart, such as he had never before experienced. 
Could it be, that he was in possession of what in the distance 
had beamed with such fascinating power upon his longing 
heart ? The reality appeared to him a blissful dream ! 

The fond couple were sweetly alone, yet there grew up be- 
tween them no personal familiarity, that course wile of a 
prurient taste, no base flattery, that false coinage of the heart. 
Not even social freedom was established. Deep emotions 
find not a ready utterance. Exquisite sensibility is shrink- 
ingly timid. Theirs was rather a silent communing, the sym- 
pathy of the eye, the magnetism of look. 

Then Waiter felt the embarrassment of a new situation. 
His soul had not yet moulted its maidenly reserve. His 
tongue was fettered by lack of culture, and the sailor possesses 
not the small change of talk by which society manages to fill 
up the gaps of time. 


AN EVENING VISIT. 


297 


But time flew with rapid wing, and when he arose to de- 
part, he was surprised to perceive, that the antique clock in 
the corner indicated the hour of eleven. 

His steps homeward were as light as those of a fawn. The 
ground felt delightful to his touch. Passing objects bore the 
greeting smile of friends. The air came laden with balmy 
fragrance, and the very darkness seemed gloved with velvet 
smoothness. 

There is one moment in life, when the heart having attained 
the goal of its wishes, pauses an instant in the fulness of its 
happiness, wishing nothing more in life. 

Such was the present state of Walter. Every form of 
disquiet had disappeared, behind the glow of his present 
emotions, and any lot in life he would welcome, if accompa- 
nied by the joy that reigned now in his breast. 

Walter had gained permission of Angeline to continue his 
visits. This he did for some time, without its becoming known 
in the neighborhood. Circumstances favored the secrecy. 

Her father’s house had been built fronting the south and the 
ocean, according to the custom then in those parts. But a 
road afterward having been opened, passing near the back 
of the dwelling, that part had been arranged and occupied as 
the front, so that the paternal roof now had, so to speak, two 
fronts, the one exposed to the public, and the other shaded by 
an enclosed yard of shrubbery and flowers. 

This latter way afforded a secluded entrance. Then it 
being the season when the male portion were nearly all away 
upon the ocean, great quiet reigned in the settlement. In- 
deed, the place bore for the time the aspect of a perpetual 
sabbath. 

Walter instinctively chose for the time of his visits the 
hush of the evening, that brief period when the reign of day 


298 


THE FISHER BOY. 


having ceased, and night not yet commenced her career, there 
is a pause, as if the pulse of nature were ceasing to beat. 

Exuberant of happiness were these secret love calls of the 
Fisher Boy. They were all the more purely sweet, from not 
being exposed to public gaze. There are emotions we care 
not to share with the public. They lose their aroma by 
being exhaled, like some delicious beverage. 

But one evening, on his way to Angeline’s, just as he was 
entering the garden gate, whom should he meet but a neigh- 
bor, who resided next door to his mother’s. How unlucky ! 
He felt the affair must now be out. The apprehension disturbed 
not a little the evening’s pleasure with the fair girl. 

The man happened to be a sedate, uncommunicative being, 
but this visiting of Walter to the house of Angeline, at that 
time in the evening, attired in his Sunday’s best, was suspicious. 
At least, the secret was too good to be lost to the public. He 
would fain unlock it for their edification. 

The news flew over the neighborhood, as if travelling upon 
the wings of the wind. It burst upon gaping minds, like a 
summer thunder-gust, setting the tongue of gossip agog, and 
the whole spirit of the neighborhood ablaze. What more 
diffusive than the busy-body spirit of a village curiosity ? 

Walter shrank at the thought of his sacred sentiments 
being thus exposed to grovelling eyes, and himself the burden 
of an unscrupulous tongue, yet he was not free of that feeling 
of vanity, that springs from the consciousness of being in the 
public eye. 

But when he found himself the subject of an invidious 
comparison, he felt stung to the quick. 

“ Angeline’s the best girl in the place,” said one. “ Beauti- 
ful, good as an angel, the only daughter, the idol of her family, 
and beloved by everybody. She could take her pick from 
all the young men at home ; or as to that, get the nicest young 


GOSSIP. 


299 


man in Boston. She’ll hardly take up, I should think, with 
Walter Carl, and a fisherman.” 

“ Wliat think you the old folks ’ll say, when they find it 
out,” said another. 

“ The Redcliffs are descended from a superior family. They 
have always prided themselves greatly upon their quality of 
blood, and, although they ever show themselves kind and 
alfable to everybody, yet it is easy to perceive, that they are 
brimful of pride and lofty notions. The Carl folks I think 
’ll hardly come up to their ideas of social dignity.” 

In the ardor of his sentiments, that narrowed down his 
perceptions to the single point of solicitude for Angeline’s 
affections, he had not embraced in the horizon of his changing 
sea, the probable course her parents would shape toward his 
wishes. 

But the veil of illusion began to be raised. The uncertainty 
of his success with Angeline’s parents pressed with disquie- 
tude upon his vision. Thus it ever is in life. One object 
of the heart gained, another rises, sweeping back the tide of 
our feelings to the point of trembling Hope. 

Still, he tried manfully to rise above the clouds of darkness 
that at times surrounded him. The heart is incredulous of 
the whisperings of its own dark fate. But the truth was soon 
to burst forth in noon-tide blaze. 

One bright morning he met Balec and Jabez, who per- 
suaded him to go along with them to the haunt of an old for- 
tune teller in an obscure corner of the town. This shred of 
humanity had made his appearance in the neighborhood some 
few months before, as strangely as if he had just dropped down 
from the clouds, pretending that once knowing the year and 
day of one’s birth, he could cast the horoscope of his star, and 
deduce from it the whole fortune of his life. 

The arrival of this interpreter of the Fates, created a 


800 


THE FISHER BOY. 


sensation of wonder in the neighborhood. Old women telling 
fortunes by tea grounds, by cards, by inspection of one’s hand, 
had been among them from time to time, but none before had 
plunged into the depths of astrology, like this man ; none 
had invested the subject with so profound mystery and awe. 

Then everybody testified that the fortunes told by this man 
had all come out exact. Not less mysterious his means, than 
startlingly true his revelations. How strange that love of 
the marvellous in the human breast, that swallows so eagerly 
the phantoms of its own credulity ? 

Well, this leech-worm of the credulous in poor humanity, 
having taken his first gulp from the wave of village curiosity, 
had retired to a miserable hut where he was living in ambigu- 
ous relations with two females more resembling some weird 
witches of the darkest times of the past, than respectable 
beings of civilization. 

Here he continued to impose his wondrous art upon such 
as favored him with their presence, and the sum of a quarter 
of a dollar, as a magnet to turn the key of his mysterious box 
that opened into the secrets of life. And in spite of the 
wretched, almost disgraceful character of them, numbers from 
all parts of the town thronged daily the old astrologer’s pre- 
cints, partly from curiosity, arid in part from the diversion to a 
village life. 

Balec and Jabez had become infected with the ruling fever, 
and their social influence over Walter was such as to draw 
him along with them. 

They found the old fortune tfeller blind, but with a pretended 
inward sight that eclipsed the brightest beam of day. He 
cast down his divining rod, and the past, the present, and the 
future rayed clearly before him. He first began with Balec, 
then with Jabez. He gave recognizable traits of their char- 
acter, touched upon pa-.t incidents of their lives, then mapped 


THE FORTUNE TELLER. 


301 


out their future in pleasing lines. The two boys were filled 
with delight. To see themselves, as in a glass, and reflected, 
too, in so comely proportions, was gratifying to their seh-love. 

Next came the turn of Walter. His fortune, like the for- 
tunes of his two companions, were portrayed in flattering 
colors. The astrologer proceeded thus gayly until reaching 
the twenty-second year of the boy, when he suddenly paused 
in his 'narration, a shadow passed over his brow, and he 
hesitated to proceed on. When urged to do so, he intimated 
that the dark Fates had revealed to him something alarming 
in the life of the boy at this period. He then suddenly re- 
called something inadvertently omitted in the portion of the 
fortune already given. It was an incident just about to 
transpire, something of great significance, and which would 
change the current of his whole future. The blind revealer 
dwelt upon this expected incident with so much persistency, 
and stated minutely so many circumstances connected with 
it, that Walter could not but refer to his relations with Ange- 
line. A presentiment of some great disappointment passed 
over his mind. 

They all set off in return. Balec and Jabez in buoyant 
spirits. Walter, thoughtful and downcast, dwelling upon the 
dark presages of the fortune teller. His mind was in that 
disturbed state, when the fear of losing the prize we have 
won, keeps up a painful solicitude, and transforms every 
doubtful circumstance into an omen of ill. 

On reaching home, he entered the house in breathless haste. 
It seemed that the presence of his accustomed apartments 
would restore equanimity to his mind. When in moments of 
fervid apprehension upon some critical turn of our fate, the 
presence of familiar objects, like the society of well known 
friends, tends to allay excited distrust, and induce that golden 
serenity, so blessed to tranquillity of soul. 

26 


302 


THE FISHER BOY. 


fBut on entering his bed-room, a billet upon the table at- 
tracted the notice of Walter. It came unmistakably from 
Angeline. The debcate paper, the neat folding, the exquisite 
address, were all hers. How clearly lay revealed the charac- 
teristics of her soul upon the awaiting missive. How vividly 
this golden link in his associations ushered before him the 
sweet image of the fair girl. 

He seized it. A tide of feverish impatience rushed through 
his heart. A shadow of fearful apprehension dimmed his 
vision. He paused before opening it, as if standing upon a 
brink amid some unknown ground, where a step forward 
must plunge to a fate uncertain. 

Tearing the seal, the first glance revealed the whole. A 
vertigo of soul came over him. He sank into a seat, over- 
come by his emotions. At length, regaining sufiicient com- 
posure, he read the following lines : 

Dearest Walter : — I am pained in feeling obliged to 
tell you, that I cannot longer receive your visits. But we 
will part good friends, and I shall ever pray for your happi- 
ness. 

Let us remember the past only as a bright dream, that will 
soon melt into the blending future, to be thought of no more. 

I thank you for all your kind attentions, and subscribe 
myself, gratefully. Your friend, 

Angeline.” 

As he finished, a throb of anguish, like an edged sword, 
pierced anew his spirit. He sank back in deepest misery of 
soul. If day had been suddenly struck from his sight, the 
shock to his sensibilities could not have been more keen. 
That beautiful world, which but a moment before he embraced 
with so loving a heart, like the mirage of a sweet dream, had 
suddenly departed, leaving the darkness of midnight presshig 


BLIGHTED HOPES. 


303 


upon his ray less orbs. Ah, how bitter the first pang of 
blighted hopes ! 

It was long before he became sufficiently soothed to reflect 
at all upon the subject of the letter. When he did, a tinge 
of wounded pride seized him, at the bare suspicion of having 
been jilted by the flattering girl. Indeed, at times, he felt 
toward her a positive hatred, so violent and sudden were the 
transitions of his emotions^ Wildly restive is the goaded 
spirit of youth, before receiving the curb-bit of experience. 

But on contemplating more closely the import of the letter, 
he began to believe that its decision was not dictated by the 
will of Angeline herself. The dawning impression threw a 
gleam of hope over his darkened spirit. ^ 

Seizing his pen, with the eagerness of a desperate man, 
catching at an object of safety just appeared to view, he 
addressed a letter to Angeline. A haughty tone of feeling ran 
through the impassioned lines of the missi, yet there were 
here and there touches of tender fire, well calculated to melt so 
generous a heart as Angeline’s. 

The next day, Walter received in reply the following : 

“ Dearest Walter : — I fear my brief note of yesterday 
may have offended you. K so, I tearfully implore your for- 
giveness. Do not believe that I could willingly wound your 
feelings. No, my dearest friend, knowingly to give you the 
slightest pang, would bring the deepest misery to my distressed 
spirit. 

Heaven knows how my poor heart has struggled against the 
claims of duty ; how it has bled at every pore, in being torn 
h’om the object of its affections ; how it now lies groaning in 
the bitterness of its keen sorrow ! But alas! the cherished 
purpose of the heart seems not our own. 

From my earliest recollection, I have been taught implicit 


304 


THE FISHER BOY. 


obedience to parents. This has been the golden rule of my 
life. To me it has been a sweet law of love, for my own dear 
parents have ever proved to me the truest, the kindest, the 
best of friends. Next to my Maker, I have felt for them the 
deepest gratitude, the holiest trust. Too wise to err, too 
good not to consult my highest happiness, I have ever clung 
to them with a faith of deepest affection. They have been my 
sun, my world, my universe of life. But for once I feel that 
that they are unkind, harsh, nay, cruel. It seems that they 
have become suddenly changed ; that some evil spirit has pos- 
sessed them to destroy forever the joy of their fond daughter. 

But they have commanded, and I will obey ; for alas, what 
other course is left for me ; what other course consistent with 
duty, with self-respect ; what other course not forbidden alike 
by the holy precepts of the Bible, by the sacred interests of 
society, and by the claims of virtue itself. 

Then let us submit to the stroke that separates us, with 
trustful resignation. A wise Providence may design it for 
our greatest good. The sweet rainbow of promise may lie 
concealed behind the cloud that envelops us, yet joyfully to 
break forth upon our enraptured gaze. At least, we will place 
an unshaken faith in the wisdom and goodness of him who 
doeth all things well. 

And, now, adieu, my ever 

dear friend, 

Angeline. 

P. S. Pardon me for returning with this, all your dear 
letters. I would fain preserve them near me, as mementoes of 
happy days, alas, now flown; but as often as I should see them 
it would open afresh the wounds of a bleeding heart, and 
make me more and more miserable.” 

The perusal of this letter awakened tumultuous emotions in 


BRIGHTENING PROSPECTS. 


305 


Walter’s breast. Yet it allayed his worst fears, and imparted 
a sweet glow to his feelings. 

All was now clear to his mind. It was just as his heart had 
divined. Angeline, as ever, was all his own. Blessed assur- 
ance ! Indeed, this last letter revealed the blissful truth more 
brightly than ever. He could almost submit to losing her, 
as it seemed he must, just to be so clearly assured of her pure, 
her deep, her abiding affection. Then how noble her senti- 
ments. It is doubly dear to be beloved when the affection 
flows from exalted excellence. 

But her parents, not approving her choice, had interposed 
their will, and the dear girl, like a good, self-sacrificing, dutiful 
child as she was, had yielded up her happiness to parental 
command. 

In contemplating her course, his feelings were alternately 
those of pain and joy ; of pain, that her affection for him had 
hot impelled her to break through all obstacles, and rush con- 
fidingly to his bosom ; of joy to perceive her animated with a 
spirit so heroic, so self-sacrificing. That she bowed so fully 
to the shrine of duty, made her all the more lovely to his eyes. 
The very obstacle that barred his hopes, enhanced her worth. 
Her sway to principle was the shuttle that wove the shroud of 
liis hopes.' 

But the course of Angeline’s parents stung Walter to the 
quick. The pride of his nature was aroused at the diparage- 
ment which was implied in this revelation of their sentiments. 
Yet he could not free himself of the bitter consciousness of his 
humble condition, and of the despised calling into which he had 
been thrown by circumstances beyond his control. 

He spent hours of deep solicitude in pondering upon how 
could be removed the obstacles that separated him from the 
object of his love. True, he felt secure of the girl’s single 
affections for the present, but he could not fail to perceive that 
26 * 


306 


THE FISHER SOY. 


unless tlie barrier so cruelly thrust between their free commun- 
ion, were overcome, the stream of her love that now flowed so 
purely towards his own breast, must in time, be inevitably 
turned into another channel. 

It were hopeless to think of reconciling her parents to his 
wishes. He could devise no possible way to compass so blessed 
an end. Their prejudices were too deeply rooted in the un- 
yielding substratum of human nature to admit of a ray of 
hope in that direction. Could he succeed, then, in gaining her 
will to his own, of drawing her into that state of delirious 
emotion, when a woman, from the ardor of her confiding spirit, 
flings wildly aside the most sacred ties for her lover, and thus 
override the firm feelings of her parents ? With a faith 
springing from the potency of his own affections, he felt able 
to achieve this. 

But could he be so unfeeling, as to tear away this pure 
young girl from the fond arms of those who had given her 
birth, who had nursed and nurtured her frail existence with 
the holiest instincts of parental love, united with moral and 
religious principle, until she had blossomed into a lovely 
flower, throwing beams of sunshine upon the growing shadows 
of their declining life, and loading with fragrance the very air 
of their sweet homeside ? Did she not belong to them by the 
fullest rights of nature ? Could he cruelly lay so sacrelegious 
a hand upon the inviolable ties of family ? Should he ever 
pardon himself for bringing down an unending gloom upon 
that roof, which had ever before beamed with domestic joy ? 

Yes, he felt from the depths of his nature that he could do 
all this. Yet, a slight feeling of revenge, it must be confessed 
mingled here with the reasonings of his mind. What natural 
right, he asked himself, had any human being, to interpose an 
obstacle to the free mutual will of two virtuous hearts, upon a 
point so momentous, as one affecting their highest happiness, 


PARENTAL INFLUENCE. 


307 


yea, the very moral existence of their whole future. True 
they were her parents, but was she not given to them for a 
holier, a higher purpose, than merely to gild their brief span 
of life. "Was not the girl’s own happiness, her eternal welfare, 
the happiness and welfare of the man whom nature had 
pointed out as her husband, and all the growing and widening 
relations, that spring out of the married life of a single couple 
through all coming time — should not all these great and holy 
interests upon society and the world eclipse the puny prefer- 
ence of her parents for a few brief moments ? Were tliey not 
under the strongest natural obligation — did not the whole 
tenor of their very religion, teach them unselfishly to consult 
the child’s happiness in preference to their own ? Then could, 
they hope for any success worthy the name, in attempting to 
resist the great law of nature which binds hearts as it wreaths 
the sunshine, and is as resistless in its sway as is the incoming 
of ‘the tidal wave ? But suppose by persistently thwarting 
the wishes of their child, they finally succeeded in alienating her 
mind from the object of her heart, how were they ever to com- 
pensate her for the immeasurable loss they had occasioned 
her, a loss that might leave her future life strown thick with 
the blight of a mildew ? Could any power of parental affec- 
tion, or any fascination of home delights, which they could 
ever possibly summon, make amends for depriving her of that 
one great need of a woman’s nature, namely, of being wedded 
in love and friendship to the man of her choice ? 

They objected to his inferior social position. But what 
were position, wealth, family connections anywhere, by the side 
of the moral existence, the social happiness, the atfectional 
life of two truthful natures, just launching upon a sea so 
momentous. Especially how insignificant were such consider- 
ations, in a country like ours, with no established classes, and 


308 


THE FISHER BOY. 


where all factitious distinctions are as changing as the ever 
clianging seasons. 

Besides, might not her parents find themselves mistaken in 
their conceptions of the boy’s character, and in their estimate 
of what he was capable of achieving in the future. Might 
not their views undergo a change, and they come to regret 
when, alas, too late, their opposition to their daughter’s wishes ! 
How blind, it must be confessed, are we to the future. How 
precarious are the brightest schemes of men ! How many 
golden marriages, shaped by parental wills have early set in 
gloom. While how many inauspicious unions formed by will- 
ing hearts have gradually brightened into prosperity and 
honor. 

These were some of the thoughts that crowded the fevered 
brain of the boy. They strengthened him in the resolution to 
overcome, or at least, circumvent the will of Angeline’s parents. 
His conscience once appeased, the ardor of his affections 
nerved up his determinations with an energy truly impassioned, 
and he set to summoning plans for the accomplishment of his 
purpose. 

But as he turned the subject over in his mind, new views 
broke forth. Suppose he could persuade the girl in her ex- 
cited state of emotion, to abandon her parents and fly to his 
own arms, what would he then find himself in possession of, 
as the so much coveted burden of life, a woman, or a partial 
maniac ? Which would best fill the measure of his love, and 
satisfy the full cravings of his exalted affections, a woman 
with all her social relations intact, joyous in the calm serenity 
of a healthful state of mind, making no earthly sacrifice for 
him, but rather borrowing lustre from the new relation, or a 
kind of crazed soul, disjointed and fragmentary, coming to him 
in a state, that was a species of intoxication, with the loss of 


, CONJUGAL FELICITY. 


309 


much that was most sacred in marriage. He did not fail to 
perceive that man’s heaven of love consists in perfectly pos- 
sessing a woman that perfectly possesses herself, one that 
should come to him with no earthly relation severed, no social 
tie broken by the change, perfectly independent in all her 
affinities, yet so attuned to his own nature by the sympathy of 
congenial love, as happily to make the will of him her own. 
The glory of man’s conjugal felicity was to have the sweet 
mastery of a kindred soul that was strong, self-reliant, and 
governed by its own free will. It was not a subject, a slave, 
a mere creature subdued to his own whims, caprice and selfish 
appetite, that answered his conceptions, but a coequal, a partner, 
a companion, a friend. He reflected upon which would be 
most likely to perform with him benignly the voyage of mar- 
ried life, she who should step into the boat with a calm ex- 
pectation of the dangers of the sea, and with a tranquil will to 
meet any fate, or she who had rushed with infatuation to his 
side. 

Then when the frenzy of the moment was over, how 
would she be likely to be affected with a contemplation of her 
state. Would she maintain the same happy attachment to his 
fortunes, or might she not grow weary, and repent her haste ? 

Then, how was he to supply what he had deprived her of, 
in the loss of her friends ? These were, after all, social ties 
which he could never of his own might, hope to restore. 
True, the central depth of a woman’s love is, or ought to be, 
in the joy of her husband, but this does not supersede other ties 
of love and friendship. She may cherish and exercise the 
warmest affection for all her friends, and take none properly 
belonging to her husband. Indeed, his store of wealth in his 
wife’s love, is nobly increased by her freedom to strengthen in 
the bonds of good will the family ties of her youth. The 
depth of feeling and genial sentiment which she thus acquires 


THE FISHER BOY. 


3lU 

arc 'all his own and will concentrate with sweet power upon 
hl3 daily life. It will create a sunshine upon his family 
hearth, that will give a brighter spell to home. 

The man who would cut off his wife from friendly inter- 
course with her natural friends, hoping thereby to secure her 
more firmly to himself, makes a fatal mistake. He sins against 
high heaven, and against the dearest rights of society. If he 
succeeds, he will only have corrupted the soul that should be 
the angel of his inner life. He has destroyed with his own 
hands, the beauty of his dearest treasure. He has acted the 
part of a tyrant ; his course is that of a wretch. 

But Walter did not feel to accept the whole burden of this 
reasoning. He would not of his own accord turn Angeline 
from her parents and friends. He would win her for himself, 
and if they chose to withdraw their friendship, theirs would 
be the responsibility. Still, he could not get rid of the feel- 
ing, that he would be at least the occasion of the rupture. 
And this sorely troubled him. As he dwelt upon it, the more 
huge it grew, until he rose to an excited state of mind, and 
when the contempt with which her parents had treated him 
flashed across his mind, he boiled with pride and indignation. 

A new resolution sprang up in his breast. He would relin- 
quish forever his claims upon Angeline. Whatever the con- 
sequences to his future happiness, he would not take her, if he 
could, on the hard condition of the hatred of her parents and 
the alienation of her friends. It would be heroically sweet to 
hug to his heart this one great grief of his life, and suffer and 
be strong until he had arisen to a full mastery of his emotional 
nature ; but to endure the silent reproaches of a bosom com- 
panion, whose every look would remind him of having robbed 
her of her dearest friends, would be more than he could 
endure. 


A EAREWELL LETTER. 


31 } 


With this resolution he seized his pen, and wrote the fol- 
lowing : , 

“Dearest Angeline: — How cruelly has not Fortune 
frowned upon me. After experiencing the bli«s of believing 
you mine, how excruciating the thought of your being turned 
from me forever. But it is joy URspeakable to be assured that 
I still possess your affections, although this joy is mingled with 
pain to think that the bright light of your love wanes for me, 
only to delight the pathway of another. 

“ I will not speak harshly of your parents, because they are 
your dearest friends upon earth ; and for your sake I will 
drink to its last dregs, this bitterest cup they give me. They 
think me unworthy of you ; and except in the single purity 
of my love, I feel from the sincerest depths of my soul, that 
they are right. But did they know how fondly I doat upon 
your very existence ; could they see the purity of my inten- 
tions, the sincerity of my heart, the strength of my love; 
could they understand how their sweet approbation to the 
exercise of our mutual love, would fill my bosom with never- 
ending gratitude, how it would nerve my arm to battle bravely 
with life, with what devotion I would study your every hap- 
piness, with what might I would strive to lay the treasures 
and honors of the world at your feet, — could they believe all 
these, as I feel them, I am sure in an excess of tenderness, 
they would relent, and would show the same alacrity to restore 
you to my arms, that they now do determination to throw you 
from my path forever. 

“ Your decision, dear friend, breaks my heart. It strikes 
the universe of life from my soul. Yet I cannot but bless you 
from the bottom of my better nature, for being ever true to a 
noble principle. I embrace the hand that wields the fatal 
blow. Farewell, dearest Angeline. No. I cannot yet say 
the final word. I must see you once again, — but once, if bul 


312 


THE FISHER BOY. 


to breathe the sweet fragrance of your presence and receive 
your parting embrace ; till then, adieu. 

“ Thine in anguish, 

“Walter.” 

The evening appointed for the parting interview of the 
unhappy lovers, was as beautifully serene, as their bosoms 
were disturbed and wretched. How differently now did nature 
greet his every sense from what she did at his previous visits ! 
Then the spirit of joy pervaded all without as well as within ; 
and the tiniest shrub in his pathway bore him a smile of glad- 
ness ; now everything appeared enshrouded in the dejection 
that palled his own breast. 

Angeline met him with a soft step at the garden gate of her 
father’s. She took his arm with a movement of sadness, and 
the two in the profound depth of their own grief made a turn 
or two in the adjoining lane. A calm, gentle spirit seemed to 
breathe in the silvery atmosphere around them, but it brought 
no tranquillity to their throbbing hearts. The moon sailed 
benignly in the placid heavens, but it ^lay no balm upon their 
bruised spirits. Few words were exchanged between them. 
Their hearts were too full for utterance. Their intercourse 
was the mute eloquence of feeling. Their parting was the 
bitter sob of the grave-side. One, a single kiss, the only one, 
sealed their mutual love. Their maiden lips, met for the first 
time, in sweet, tender sympathy. 

The parting over, Walter bounded homeward with rapid 
gate. A mountain of oppression had been removed from his 
heart, and from the void that followed, there came a lightness 
of feeling, that lent wings to his movement. 

Arrived at home, he threw himself upon his bed in a state 
of feverish bewilderment. The scenes he had just passed 
through, had seemed so strange, as to leave a cast of unreality 


DISAPPOINTED LO>^E. 


313 


in his emotions. He endeavored with firm purpose to allay 
the excitement of his mind, and court the gentle balm of sleep, 
but with his best efforts to the contrary, the fever upon his 
brain increased, and the dewy morning came bringing no 
slumber to liis restive eyelids. He tossed upon his pillow in 
hapless woe. Every thought of the past made him more and 
more wretched, and he silently accused himself for having in 
his precipitancy to throw off his ties from Angeline, been the 
executioner of his own happiness. 

In resolving to part forever with Angeline, he believed to 
have mastered his own emotions, but how treacherously he 
had deceived himself. He thought in the act of their separa- 
tion, he had given proof of an unshaken purpose, but alas 
how fragile proved this strength of resolution. In a moment 
of heroic ardor, he believed himself capable of shaking off 
the fetters that bound him, and pursuing the freedom of his 
course. But how little he knew his own heart. The very 
effort he made to rid himself of the thrall of her affections, 
but bound him to her in double chains. Now cast off hopelessly 
from her, the image of the dear girl would rise with increased 
tenderness ; and when the trance of her loveliness came over 
him, his whole nature sickened with languishing despair. 
The single thought of how happy he miglit have been in the 
ever sunshine of her love, and how miserable must be his ex 
istence without her, overwhelmed him with deepest anguish. 

He turned to every side with distressed heart, he groaned 
in bitterness of soul. The day seemed stripped of its beauty, 
the night disrobed of its loveliness. Appetite fled from him 
as a gaunt spectre. The faces of friends no longer beamed 
with joy. Even the sweet voice of his dear mother,’ seemed 
to have lost the charm of its tone. 

To escape human gaze, he flew to the haunts of his youth, 
to the glorious sea-side, to catch the low plaint of its ceaseless 

27 


314 


THE FISHER BOY. 


billow, to the old, welcome pond, to drink of its dreamy 
quietude, to the venerable red school-house, to invoke the 
sweet voice of the past. Then he plunged into the depths of 
the woody thicket, and there amid the stillness of nature, com- 
muned, but it was only with the unseen spirits of his haggard 
thoughts. All was vain essay. The very key-note of his 
soul was disordered, and every other chord, when touched, only 
vibrated a mournful dirge. 

The familiar scenes of his youth became painful to his 
sense, and he resolved to fly away from home, as the nearest 
approximation to the escaping from thought. 

The observant eye of Walter’s mother had noticed the sud- 
den attachment of Walter to Angeline ; and during the whole 
of his relations with the beautiful girl, nothing had escaped 
her vigilant eye. She felt proud of his choice, but with a 
fuller knowledge of human nature than her son, she was 
troubled with a keen solicitude for his success, and now, that 
the rupture was apparent, she felt how well grounded had 
been her worst apprehensions. As she saw her beloved son 
thus blighted in his pure affections, and lying prostrate like a 
bruised reed, in the pathway, her heart was moved with com- 
miseration. She longed to unburthen herself in sympathy 
with her afliicted child, but a profound delicacy forbid ; and as 
for the boy, no treasure of earth could have induced him to 
share his secret sentiments even with his confiding mother. 
The cause of his disappointment was but too plain ; and that 
her darling son should be thus rejected because of his humble 
life, aroused her proud spirit to the fullest measure of feeling. 
She felt a positive indignation towards the authors of her 
son’s unhappiness. But when she reflected upon the past, 
her own course arose in self-condemnation. She bitterly 
reproached herself for having so selfishly urged him into a 
career of life, that had so sadly compromised his fortune, and 


LEAVING HOME. 


315 


bid fair to wreck his happiness. What would she not now 
give to recall the past. But the bond was now broken, that 
held him to her footsteps. She was now willing, yea eager, 
that he should go from her— should launch upon the broadest 
ocean of life, encounter all its hardships, hazard all its snares, 
if with the prospect of conquering a position, and reclaiming 
his happiness. 

With considerable difficulty, a release was at length effected 
from the vessel to which he was bound, and Walter, with a 
swelling lieart, bid a tender adieu to his home. Yet the fare- 
well with his mother lacked its usual expressive fervor. No 
tears were shed ; few words were uttered. A deep, control- 
ling sentiment, mutually comprehended, but which neither 
dared reveal to the other, seemed to embarrass emotion, and 
set a barrier to that natural flow of feeling which is the elo- 
quence of human affection. 

But if the profound grief, which in Walter absorbed every 
other sentiment, checked for the moment the deep current of 
his filial love, Mrs. Carl was affected by far other feelings. 
Remorse for having vainly compromised the happiness of her 
son, bitter pride toward those who were so acutely wringing 
his pure heart, and driving him hopelessly from her presence, 
together with an irresistible presentiment, that she was never 
more to see his dear face, paralyzed the very chords of mater- 
nal affection, and implanted sentiments too poignant for utter- 
ance. Yet, if upon her brow there sat a marble placidity, as 
if in resignation to the will of fate, far below, in the depths of 
her soul, were breaking injto flame those corroding fires that^ 
slowly eat out the love of life. 


CHAPTER XXIL 


“ These lips are mute, these eyes are dry, 

But in my heart and in my brain. 

Awake the pangs that pass not by. 

The thought that ne’er shall sleep again. 

My soul nor deigns nor dares complain. 

Though grief and passion there rebel ; 

I only know we loved in vain ; 

I only feel — Farewell ! — Farewell ! ” 

' . Byron. 

Walter stepped upon the wharf in New York city from 
the vessel upon which he had made thither his passage from 
home, with a movement of forced alacrity. He embraced 
greedily the change from the dreary passage of the way, with 
time unoccupied save by nursing the cruel feelings that were 
torturing his breast, and yet no definite aim of life lent health- 
ful energy to his step toward the future, and he seemed pin- 
ioned to the baleful present by the sentiment that centred, 
hopelessly, his thoughts upon the happy past. 

Roaming aimlessly through the streets of this vast metrop- 
olis of the new world, not knowing (not much caring) if he 
might at the next step become inextricably bewildered amid 
the mazes of its interminable windings, and the vortices of its 
human currents, now sauntering amid the forest of shipping, 
those magic carriers over the mighty ocean ; now seeking to 
beguile a weary moment in some grateful park, that smile 
of nature amid the din of art, he soon began to feel in its full 
force, that sharpest of all dreary feelings, the profound loneli- 
ness of being in a crowd, of being amid an ocean of human 
beings, without one in the countless host with a bosom beat- 
ing responsive to his own. 

( 316 ) 


ON THE HUDSON. 


317 


He strove to dissipate the dejection pressing upon his 
bosom, by contemplating the splendid development of civiliza- 
tion around him, and in enlisting his admiration for the genius 
of man in the noble works of art that greeted his eyes. But 
it was a fruitless effort. The better sentiments of his heart 
tinged the brightest thoughts of his mind, and left him in a 
state of gloomy misanthropy. 

Finding no solace in the crowded mart where he was, an 
impulse seized him to plunge off from this dense focus of civil- 
ization to the precincts of human society, that happily he 
might find amid the solitudes of nature that balm which was 
denied him among the haunts of men. 

After much discouraging enquiry and looking around, he at 
length found a passage on board a lake boat, so termed, mak- 
ing trips between New York city and Seneca Lake, a beau- 
tiful expanse of water in the interior of the State. The pic- 
turesque, and at times sublime scenery, upon the banks of 
the noble and majestic Hudson ; the long reaching Erie Canal, 
that first grand link between the bustling East, and the rising 
West, and a glorious monument of the genius, energy and 
perseverance of man ; the verdant, teeming earth yielding every- 
where of her generous bounty ; and the evidences all around, 
of thrift, of rapid prosperity that greeted his eyes, as he was 
conveyed along upon the route; served to divert his mind 
from the feelings that were brooding over his soul, and at times 
to impart a buoyancy to his spirit ; but they brought no per- 
manent peace to his distracted bosom. 

Finding the winter to commence setting in with premoni- 
tory rigor, he returned hastily to New York city, and there 
eno-at^ed himself as first officer in a schooner bound for the 

c> o 

South. Taking so responsible a position was rather a bold 
stroke for one of his tender years and poverty of experience 
in nautical life, but so long idleness had made him impatient 
27 * 


318 


THE FISHER BOY, 


for occupation, and there had gradually sprung up in his 
bosom a species of desperation that imparted a reckless tinge 
to his character. 

During the first part of his passage, the severe and exact- 
ing duties of his new state absorbed his full energies, and 
ruled out in a good degree the bitter sentiments of the past ; 
but when they approached the crescent coast of the Mexican 
Gulf, the soft airs that impregnated the sunny clime, breath- 
ing a sweet tenderness ; the serene and lovely beauty that 
floated in the air, and brooded with dove-like wings over the 
water ; the gorgeous, voluptuous skies, redolent with passionate 
hues ; and especially the low, sandy coast, covered with pine 
so exactly resembling that of his home ; all were so inspiring 
of the .very spirit of love, as to induce an excess of his pas- 
sion, and overwhelm his soul with a torrent of languishing 
regrets. 

After touching at several American ports upon the Gulf 
coast, the vessel proceeded up the Mississippi to New Orleans. 
There appeared much in the character of the people, and in 
the scenery of the places through which they passed, to seize 
forcibly the attention of one so ingenuous as Walter. He was 
lively struck with that northern element of character engraft- 
ed upon a southern trunk, throwing up for the time its home 
principles, feigning indifference to the surrounding institutions, 
and forgetful of all, save driving for the main chance of 
getting. 

On arriving at New Orleans, the object being secured for 
which he bound himself to the vessel, he obtained a release. 
Here Mr. Carl very naturally fell into the company of other 
mates, boarding ashore, who drew him into their society out of 
])ure craving for companionship. The young man as a diver- 
sion participated very freely with the lively shore pranks of 
these seamen adrift, but his heart was too pre-occupied for 


BUFFALO. 


319 


tlieir often questionable manners to leave any stain upon liis 
pure mind. 

He hailed the opening of spring with gladness, as bringing 
a period of change, and getting on board a steamer, was speed- 
ily conveyed many hundred miles up the river to Pittsburg. 
The novel and striking features of this vast inland passage 
kept his mind in an intense state of curiosity and interest, and 
he at times seemed being conveyed to a new sphere of exist- 
ence. 

The route from Pittsburg to Erie lay over a rough and 
slippery country, and the comical incidents by the way, with 
the squibs and cracks of the jovial stage party, lent a zest to 
this mode of travelling entirely new to Walter. Departing from 
Erie, and coasting the silvery lake, after one or two startling 
upsets, they reached Buffalo, blessing their stars for so safe 
a deliverance.. 

To find a bustling city, with docks crowded with vessels, and 
quays covered with merchandise, at so remote a point from 
the ocean, in the midst of what AYalter had been accustomed 
to imagine an interminable forest, seemed, to his astonished 
eye, some magic picture transformed to life. 

There were in the harbor two or three vessels of the re- 
maining squadron of the immortal Perry, being employed in 
the general business of transportation. Walter could not but 
contemplate with deep interest these proud vestiges of Ameri- 
can prowess ; and he thought it ignoble that they should be thus 
retained for the ordinary purposes of commerce, after so bril- 
liant and signal a career. His youthful patriotism would have 
preferred to see them inviolable from the sordid touch of gain, 
a spirit so rooted in the American mind. As he revolved 
over the glorious battle of Lake Erie, otlier sublime scenes in 
the struggles of our nation came to mind, and he could not 
but envy those who had nobly fallen in defence of tlieir coun- 


S20 


THE FISHER BOY. 


try, and thus earned a niche in the temple of Fame, and a place 
in the heart of a grateful country. How sweet, could he find a 
death so happy! 

His morning and evening walks were upon the pier of the 
harbor, stretching into the divided waters of the Lake. How 
novel to his view, and yet how beautiful, lay the broad ex- 
panse before him, dotted here and there by some winged sail 
or shooting steamer. There is nothing more soothing to the 
troubled heart than a silent stroll by the sea-side. 

But as the fretted waves dashed against the granite walls of 
the pier upon which he was standing, the complaining surges 
brought up reminiscences of his own native shores ; reminis- 
cences at once so tender and sorrowful, that, in an excess of 
emotion, he could have yielded his body to the merciful wave 
before him, there to forget in the sweet oblivion of death the 
wretchedness that was blighting his heart. 

Leaving Buffalo, that gateway between the East and the 
West, he visited several of the ports that are scattered upon 
the coast, stretching around the lake ; then, after strolling 
leisurely a-foot to the Ohio River, he sailed fleetly down the 
swift gliding stream, and, at length found himself, pennyless 
and dejected, in the big, bustling city of Cincinnati. 

None, save those who may have experienced it, can imagine 
the mortal disquietude that seizes upon one, on finding him- 
self friendless and without money, far away from his home. 
The splendid, teeming world seems an overflowing banquet 
from which in his abject poverty he is shut out, for the lack 
of one little key to unlock the door of entrance. 

But Walter, however much a prey to the innate grief that 
seemed consuming him, was not one to yield to any ordinary 
vicissitudes of life. Spurious natures, are they who, when 
overtaken by some great misfortune, in a fit of desperation, 
give way to courses of ruin. A genuine character yields 


A KENTUCKIAN. 


321 


never to the shocks of fate, but like some royal mountain oak, 
every blast from the gale that rides upon the storm, but sends 
still deeper the roots that uphold its majestic trunk. 

After a good deal of search in quest of some honest em- 
ployment, he at last engaged himself as pilot, or steers-man, 
on board a canal-boat making semi-monthly trips between 
Cincinnati and a small city some fifty-four miles north of the 
queen city of the West. 

The captain of the boat had an aspect so forbidding, that 
Walter would have hesitated making the man’s acquaintance 
at all, but for the sore pressure of need that drove him to seek 
employment. With a Carolina sun-burnt skin drawn over a 
huge Kentucky frame, and eyes small, half open and wretchedly 
inexpressive, there was withal a surly mastiff look about the 
face, that made one almost tremble to approach him. 

But nothing is more deceptive than appearances. Those 
who pretend to read the “ mind’s construction in the face,” 
would in this instance ’ have signally failed ; for this man 
beneath an uncouth and harsh exterior, bore a nature as kindly 
and genial as could be found among human kind. Walter in 
his need for sympathy, nestled to the very heart of the stran- 
ger, and felt almost happy in his warm society. The boatman 
was also very intelligent, ever conversing in moments of 
leisure, which were many (for he was none of your greedy 
drivers in the mart of business, but took the world “ fair and 
easy,”) upon History, Biography and Science. There was a 
philosophic tone in all he said, mingled with a fine common 
sense, that quite captivated Walter. 

But the man was thoroughly an infidel, and his sceptical 
speculations which seemed to pervade the whole character of 
his mind, came near working the ruin of Walter, and of prov- 
ing of serious loss to the man himself. For the sophistic 
reasonings of the boatman, came gradually to unloose the 


822 


THE FISHER BOY. 


moorings of Walter to the great truth of a future accounta^ 
bility ; and as he contemplated the inequalities of human con- 
dition, and the apparent injustice in the distribution of the 
gifts of fortune, he began to lose by degrees that nice sense 
of the sacredness of personal integrity, and the firm principle 
to persevere uncomplainingly amid the hardest vicissitudes of 
our lot. Indeed, at times, he began to sigh for an opportunity 
to carve out for himself, by some sudden stroke of daring, 
what lie fancied his share of the world’s good things. Such 
opportunity ere long appeared. 

The business of the boat upon which Walter was engaged, 
consisted in transporting produce, chiefly flour and whiskey, 
from the interior town whence she started, to Cincinnati, and 
in conveying, on her return, goods for the merchants of the 
place. The captain being empowered to receive the pay for 
the sale of the produce that he took to market, and being fre- 
quently entrusted with considerable sums by the merchants in 
his place, to meet their payments in Cincinnati, it would not 
unfrequently happen for him to have upon his person a large 
sum of money. Whether from a habit of culpable negligence, 
or from perfect confidence in the immovable honesty of 
Walter, the captain was at times grossly careless in the keep- 
ing of this trust, leaving often his pocket-book crowded with 
bills in the pocket of a loose garment thrown off in the hurry 
of the moment upon the transom of the cabin of the boat, 
while he was himself away for hours. Generally, however, 
on leaving the boat, or at night, before retiring, he was careful 
to place the treasure in a small closet, lock the door, and 
take the key with'him. 

Once in particular, a lion temptation sprang upon Walter 
to seize this pocket-book, and fly with its contents as his own 
possession to some place of safety. He had not much ditfi- 
sulty in reconciling his conscience to the bold theft. Was not 


A TEMPTATION. 


323 


the world, mused he, a matter of chance, and death an eternal 
sleep ? Right and wrong were mixed up here below iu 
strange confusion, the wrong greatly preponderating. He 
then was a fool who would submit to plod wearily through 
life, and neglect the opportunity to seize his share of this 
world’s goods. Then, the loss would not fall upon his friend, 
the captain ; it would be shared by many who would not feel 
it much, and who, more likely than not, had obtained their 
possessions in a manner quite as questionable as the act he 
was revolving would be. 

The opportunity for escape was all that could be wished, 
the probability of detection merely nothing. He could take a 
time, when the captain would be absent from the boat for some 
time, hasten with the money to a broker’s for exchange, step 
on board of a steamer, as one or more was leaving for be- 
low at almost every moment in the day, and take ship from 
New Orleans to Europe. There were no telegraphic spirits 
then to travel faster than the swiftest steamer down a rapid 
current, and cut off retreat. 

Then what a sweet revenge would he not take upon those 
at his home, who had contemned his poverty, as he should 
appear among them, rustling with wealth and with the lustre 
of foreign travel upon his brow. How sweet it would be to 
flood with joy the heart of his mother, with so brilliant a 
return ; and to have the means of placing her above want, 
and in a position equal with the best in the neighborhood. 

How he came by his money would be no matter. People 
never ask how a person obtained his substance', but is he 
wealthy ? 

What helped to work up Walter’s mind to the daring 
thought that held possession of him, was the lowly, abject con- 
dition of poverty in which he found himself, contrasted with 
the wealth and splendor that passed daily before his eyes 


824 


THE FISHER BOY. 


Plenty and happiness seemed emptying their horn into tho 
cup of every one but himself. He alone was cursed to crawl 
like a worm upon the slimy earth. He did not perceive that 
his own state was that of the million ; that we are prone rather 
to look up with envy, than down with gratitude ; that the suc- 
cessful were often in a worse bondage of fear of losing what 
they possessed, than he could be in despair of getting where- 
withal for comfort. 

At any rate, he pursued his thought ; he actually took steps 
to carry it into execution, not that he had fully resolved to 
commit the deed, but he wished to see how easily he could do 
it, if he would. 

Scrutinizing the lock of the door which shut up the money, 
he purchased another so nearly like it, that the key just fitted 
that in the door. Taking a time when the captain would 
surely be absent for half a day, at least, he ran across the city, 
found a steamer, just ready to leave for New Orleans ; and 
directly on his way was a broker, who would exchange his 
money for gold, or give him a draft upon a responsible house 
in Europe. He went to the closet. There was the pocket 
book, stuffed with bank bills to the amount of several thou- 
sands. It was but the resolution of a moment, but he could 
not take the momentous step. His hand was stayed from the 
dreadful fate that overtakes sooner or later, him who lays 
violent hands upon what is not his own. At one moment, it 
was the pure image of his mother rising in pleading tones ; at 
another, the sweet face of Angeline that made him loathe the 
turpitude of the act. He was not held back by any nice 
scruples of conscience. The fear of a future retribution did 
not appal him. But all the moral influences and education 
of his youth arose in solid phalanx, and locked him, as in a 
rice, from the dark deed. 

As he put back the money, closed the door, and sprang 


AN INCIDENT. 


325 


asliore, a fresh feeling of relief and an elevating consciousness 
of strength rushed sparklinglj through his bosom ; and the 
noble glow of gratitude that suffused his breast, at the glorious 
thought that he had been able to rise above so great tempta- 
tion, and vindicate the royalty of human nature within him, 
he would not have exchanged for the wealth of a continent. 

The boat continued leisurely to make her plodding trips. 
At the town where she stopped, at the end of the route, and 
the residence of the captain, — a place which for convenience 
we will call Montville, there was usually a rest of a week or 
more. In this time Walter stayed on board the boat, but took 
his meals at the captain’s. At first there was much in the 
quaint features of the city — for city it was, though a very 
small one — it being more than half Dutch, and in the locali- 
ties about the region, to interest the young man. Then the 
captain would sometimes take him out to ride, to visit some 
noble forest or golden harvest-field, or, perchance, a horse race, 
or other Western amusement. 

When not thus diverted, he spent the time on the boat read- 
ing, or reflecting upon his unhappy lot. 

One afternoon, as Walter was sitting upon the bow of the 
boat in a dejected state of mind, a covy of little girls came 
tripping merrily along. Apparently, they had just been let 
out of school, and they looked as blithesome as an uncaged 
bird. What more gladsome than a troup of school-girls ring- 
ing their joyous choral voices upon the greeting air. 

As the artless bevy were passing the young man, they fell 
into a sportive mood, and began dallying with the ropes that 
bound the boat to the shore. Presently one of them, a miss 
of nine or ten summers got a rope so coiled around her, that 
she could not extricate herself from it. In her helpless plight, 
she intuitively cast an imploring look toward Walter. The 
yomig man stepped quietly ashore, gently uncoiled the rope 


326 


THE FISHER BOY. 


from the trembling girl, and thus set the captive free. The 
fair damsel finding herself so nicely taken from her condition 
of alarm, breathed her thanks to her deliverer, and bestowing 
upon Walter a sweet, earnest look of gratitude, ran off joy- 
ously with her companions. 

Tlie next day, the same girls appeared ; and the one whom 
Walter, the day previous, had befriended, whose name was 
Adelgitha, brought along with her a beautiful bouquet of 
flowers, as a token of grateful remembrance for Walter. 

This or a similar gift was often repeated ; and every day 
the little school-misses were sure to pass the boat on their way 
to and from school. The company would occasionally be 
varied, but Adelgitha was sure to be among the number, the 
first to greet Walter on coming, and the last to bid him adieu. 
Indeed his casual acquaintance with the girl soon grew into a 
budding friendship ; and not unfrequently would she hie her- 
self away from merry companions and spend an entire Satur- 
day afternoon with Walter upon the boat. Sometimes he 
would assist her in the preparation of her lessons ; and then 
she had ever a thousand eager questions to ask him about the 
wonders of the sea. 

The charming society of the beautiful little maiden was 
very sweet to Walter. She was a bright ray of sunshine in 
his gloomy pathway. 

At that unconscious age, before the maidenly feelings have 
imparted a coy grace to the woman, her openness of manner, 
her confiding, unsuspecting spirit was all the more delightful 
to the friendless young man. She would sit for hours leaning 
upon his arm, her large, dreamy eyes occauonally suffused 
with tenderness, listening to the witching narratives of Walter, 
while he, warming with the glow of enthusiasm, was but too 
happy to find so devoted a listener. 

One afternoon, while reclining in the cabin, a prey to boding 


A RESCUE. 


327 


tlioughts, he was startled by a wild shriek, and a dull splash- 
ing sound, followed by a piercing cry of alarm. Springing out 
of the cabin, and upon the tow-path, he was in a moment at 
the scene of disaster. He found there a band of little chil- 
dren in the wildest frenzy of excitement, now shrieking for 
aid and now wringing their hands in deep agony. Darting 
his eyes upon the bosom of the canal, he caught a glimpse of 
some article of clothing dimly visible just beneath the surface 
of the opaque waters of the canal. Quick as thought, he 
sprang in, seized the drowning girl, and, in a moment, bore 
her safely to land. By the time he reached the bank, a crowd 
had gathered round ; and overcome more by undue excite- 
ment than by over exertion, he yielded up his fair burden to 
humane hands stretched out so eagerly for succor. As tliey 
lay aside her dripping locks, how his heart throbbed with joy, 
to perceive that it was his sweet little friend Adelgitha, that 
he had been so fortunate as to rescue from a watery grave ! 
But the thoughtless rabble hurried the girl off, without so 
much as thanking her preserver ; and Walter returned to the 
boat, feeling happy beyond expression to have been the means 
of saving his little friend ; but somewhat chagrined at the 
treatment he had received at the hands of the crowd. 

Weeks passed, and the autumnal sickly season approached. 
Disease, like an insatiate archer, began stalking through the 
city, and entering one fair dwelling after another. Among 
others, the family of the boat captain was struck down. The 
captain himself soon after shared the same fate. Walter 
could now no longer board at the captain’s, and he commenced 
taking his meals at the tavern. At length Walter was him- 
self struck with that scourge of the West, namely, fever and 
ague ; only in his case, it was complicated with other dreadful 
symptoms. At times, he was almost sick to the death. But 
if his body was shaken with torture, his soul was doubly 


328 


THE FISHER BOT. 


racked. With no friendly arm to allay his pains ; no kindly 
voice to assuage his griefs ; suffering from inward distress, 
with a gloom lying like a thick pall upon the future, into what 
a midnight of darkness was he not thrust. At length, a neigh- 
boring woman, reduced to abject poverty by a drunken hus- 
band, came to him, bestowed upon him tones of sympathy, 
and proffered him succor. Waiter was surprised, that she 
who could scarcely find sustenance for herself and family, 
should be the first to offer him aid. He did not then know 
that active sympathy is more frequently found with the lowly 
than with the high ; that they who have suffered themselves, 
know well how to feel for others, and that often he who has 
but a little, feels more lively the impulses of givmg, than he 
who can boast of much. 

Walter ere long was removed to the tavern kept by two 
vixen sisters. Here he was thrust into an attic room’ of the 
house, upon a bed of straw, and there left to chew the end of 
misfortune, at his leisure ; — and what with steeping in catnip 
tea, and much shaking and sweating with his disease, he felt at 
times to be near shuffling off’ this mortal coil ; nor did he much 
care for such a summaiy result. But by and by, a down- 
East doctor, having patients in the house, happening to stray 
to Walter’s precincts, took at once a lively interest in his case. 
He had the young man removed to a lower room, and well 
cared for. From that time, Walter began rapidly to recover. 
Blessed be the quality of the human heart that can thus 
embrace a brother in a distant land ! 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


I find a pious gratitude disperse 

Within my soul ; and every thought of him 

Engenders a wann sigh within me, which. 

Like curls of holy incense, overtake 
Each other in my bosom, and enlarge 
With their embrace his sweet remembrance/^ 

Shirley^s Brothers. 

“ To the generous mind 
The heaviest debt is that of gratitude, 

Wlien ’t is not in our power to repay it/’ 

Franklin’s Matilda. 

“ Why mother, only think,” exclaimed Adelgitha, as the lit- 
tle girl ran into the house almost breathless with haste, her 
sunny locks all dishevelled by the breeze, and twirling ner- 
vously her summer hat by the guard, — “only think, that good, 
dear young gentleman of the boat, that I have told you all 
about so many times, who was always so kind, and pleasant 
and interesting to me, whenever I went there, is the very one, 
will you believe it, who saved me from drowning in the canal, 
and they say he is now at the Mansion House, very ill.” 

“ Are you sure of what you say, my dear,” rephed Madam 
Radesky, the little girl’s mother. 

“ Yes, quite sure. Indeed, I ’m certain ; for I had it from 
Jane Seymour, whose father knows all about it. How gener- 
ous, to peril his own life to save mine. ’T was just like him. 
But how can lever repay him. I’ll run to the hotel and 
offer him all I have in the world, for I owe him everything, 
even to my life.” 

“ Perhaps that would be imprudent, just now,” remarked 
28 * ( 329 ) 


330 


THE FISHER BOY. 


her mother. “ He may be too ill to be seen. Yes, he was, 
indeed, very generous, so nobly to restore to me my drowning 
daughter ; and then, so modest to lock up the generous deed 
within his own breast. 

“ Yes, he is a lovely young man, broke forth Adelgitha, so 
good, so kind, noble in every thing. He looks and acts and 
speaks just as it seems to me would some of the persons I 
read of in father’s books. Yes, I really love him. But, I 
fear he has not good care at the hotel. Can we not bring him 
home — at our house ? Oh, how I should love to take cai'e of 
him myself.” 

“ I agree with you, my daughter, that we should show him 
some mark of our gratitude. But we will consult your father, 
who will be in presently.” 

Count and Madame Radesky were noble Polish Exiles. In 
their own country, they had become obnoxious to the Russian 
government, for having evinced too warm sympathy with their 
patriotic countrymen. In consequence, their princely estate 
had been confiscated, and they themselves warned to leave the 
country. Afterwards, however, the Russian Minister perceiv- 
ing how strongly entrenched were these excellent people in the 
affections of all classes in Poland, revoked the hard decree, so 
far as to allow the doomed couple to remain, and to enjoy a 
portion of their estate, on condition of their making important 
concessions of their principles. This, these patriotic and spir- 
ited people refused to submit to ; and gathering up what little 
remained to them of their personal effects, they immediately 
sought a home in the New World. 

Count Radesky finding himself in the necessity of resorting 
to some means for family sustenance, opened a beautiful floral 
garden for public exhibition in Cincinnati, Ohio. This proved 
very congenial to their mutual taste for flowers and for the 


VICISSITUDES OF LIFE. 


331 


science of Botany, a taste which by culture had almost grown 
to a passion. They thus found themselves very happy in their 
worldly prosperity ; and amid the joys of the outward and 
inward world, little Adelgitha was born unto them ; but all 
sublunary joys are uncertain, and in a little time from their 
successful establishment in the new world, that memorable 
flood of the Ohio Biver, which is still remembered to have 
happened, inundated their gardens, and swept in a single day, 
their little store of all to destruction. Now reduced to great 
extremity, they were, however, so fortunate as to find a friend 
who advanced them a sum sufficient to purchase a small farm, 
which was their present home. The Count proved not to be 
one of those persons who because highly born afiect to despise 
labor, and who will resort to almost any means of support, 
rather than sully the hand with weary toil. And his wife, 
though very beautiful, and possessed of rare accomplishments, 
having been reared in the very lap of refinement, took a sin- 
cere pleasure in yielding cheerfully to vicissitudes, and an hon- 
est pride in grappling with difficulties, while uniting her 
energies with those of her husband in achieving an independent 
home. They belonged to that very small class who act upon 
the beautiful truth, that exalted character can in no wise be 
affected by the necessities of mere human employment, and 
that the lustre of a genuine lady or gentleman is sure to beam 
forth even from under the lowliest guise of life. 

After a time, unexpected gifts from relatives and friends in 
their mother country enabled them to enlarge their acres and 
adorn their dwelling, which with their own efforts and the 
rise of real estate had brought them to possess at this time 
by far the most beautiful and valuable estate in all that part 
of the country. 

It was in this family, that Walter now found hiniaelf installed, 
as if by magic. And everything in his new home subserved 


332 


THE FISHER BOY. 


to render liis stay happy in the highest degree. The Count 
and Madam Radesky lived together upon terms of the most 
perfect connubial affection. While the sentiment between 
them did not ever take to itself flattering airs of fondness, so 
did it not break out at times in an eddying current of mutual 
displeasure. The stream of their love was too deep and 
placid in its flow, to show itself in ripples upon the surface. 
Their union being the result of mutual choice, misfortune had 
still further deepened and united their common sympathies. 

Although now possessed of independent means, and still at 
the head of large business operations, the Count had not be- 
come engrossed by the sordid love of money. Early culture, 
a literary taste, a passion for the fine arts and for nature, united 
with an affection for the amenities of social life, came to his 
relief and kept up a happy balance between the spirit of ac- _ 
quisition, and the love of exalted enjoyment. And his house 
was the focus of the culture and intelligence for miles around. 

Their little daughter Adelgitha w^as being brought up as we 
should suppose a child w^ould be, by parents of so fine intelli- 
gence and justness of judgment as possessed Madame and 
the Count Radesky. They watched over this little transcript 
of their matrimonial love, with the deepest parental solicitude. 
Not only did they give themselves with the utmost truthful- 
ness of effort to the just unfolding of her youthful intellect, 
but they guarded with more than argus eyes all those little 
influences that thickly surround childhood, and gradually 
temper the susceptible soul to a moulding that is only fully 
revealed in future years. But they did not seek to force an 
arbitrary growth of the mind, but allowed the shoots of intel- 
ligence to spring up spontaneously into the genial sunlight, 
limiting the supply to healthful nourishment, and guarding 
it from noxious influences. 

Walter could not but be as happy as possible in his new 


THE LIBRARY. 


333 


home. He was treated by the whole family with all the deli- 
cacy and kindness that generous and grateful natures could 
prompt. There beamed in the air that surrounded him a 
light of joy, of refinement, of elevated intelligence that flooded 
his own bosom with sunshine. Indeed, in time he became too 
happy, falling into that infatuation of illusion, that haunts the 
breast of the caged bird, which peers out upon the blooming 
verdure of nature, and fancies that every shrub in the broad 
world will bear it the same sweet welcome, that it is ever re- 
ceving from the fond hand of affection in its own gilded elysium. 

There was no one feature of adornment to »the residence of 
Count Kadesky, that contributed more fully to absorb Walter’s 
interest, than that gentleman’s library. It was quite volumi- 
nious and the selections had been made with great care, 
bringing together nearly all the really choice works of all 
nations and times. 

Walter was from the first a frequent visitor to this sacred 
tomb of embalmed spirits ; and from cursory perusals of such 
authors as chanced to hit his fancy or taste, he became more 
and more enlisted, until at length his whole soul got fired with 
the passion for reading. His mental acumen grew in the end 
so intense, that he actually devoured the divine food so abun- 
dant before him ; and his sharpened faculties, instead of get- 
ting satiated, only waxed stronger and keener with the aliment 
upon which they fed. He felt an expansion of mind, an en- 
largement of soul, a refreshing of spirit, a thrill of delight, 
that opened upon his intellectual vision like the joy of a new 
birth, as he began more and more to comprehend the master 
spirits of bygone centuries — those true kings in the vast 
empire of mind, — to fathom with them the profound depths 
of philosophy, to dive into the hidden secrets of nature, to soar 
amid the brilliant realms of imagination, and to tread the 
flowery meads of fancy and feeling. 


834 


THE FISHER BOY. 


At length the tide of ages seemed rolled back, the vast con- 
course of the iieavens was lighted up in majestic beauty, and he 
felt surrounded with the sublime spirits of all times. These 
diffused around him the inspiring glow of their presence, and the 
young man became spell-bound to the genius of literature and 
science. He could not leave the library ; he might be found 
there at any time, morning, noon and evening ; and often past 
midnight, the glimmering light through the shutter might have 
revealed to the passer the presence of the young man in his 
wedded haunt. At last, his health began to fail ; it was per- 
ceptible in his \Yaning eye, in his pallid cheek and distracted 
air. 

Mrs. Radesky noticed this, and suggested a remedy. She 
proposed that Walter supervise the studies of Adelgitha, while 
she would teach the young man two of the modern languages 
of Europe, with which she was best acquainted — namely, 
French and German. 

Walter at first received this proposition with intense reluc- 
tance. It cost him a struggle to resolve to tear himself away 
from the fascinating library ; but when he reflected that an 
acquaintance with the languages themselves would enable him 
to appreciate those authors of genius, whose spiritual beauty 
cannot be transfused through a translation, he began to feel a 
willingness for the change. 

The time given with Adelgitha was a sweet and pleasant 
pastime. She learned almost by intuition. He merely aided 
her in getting at the mysteries of the lesson ; and oftentimes 
she would outstrip him in sagacity and rapidity of perception. 
Then she was so ingenuous, so teachable, so grateful for aid, so 
earnest in quest of truth, that the pains he bestowed was a 
pleasure that compensated all labor. 

The mode which Mrs. Radesky adopted to teach a modern 
language, was as novel as it was ingenious and successful. 


DESIRE TO SEE THE WORLD. 


835 


Slie began by presenting some visible object ; and then con- 
nected with it the sound that represented the thing. After 
making sure of the sound, this was analyzed, and each element 
made familiar to the several organs addressed in learning the 
language, by repeated practice. After getting familiar a stock 
of words, the representation of visible, tangible objects, she 
commenced with thoughts or ideas, and pursued an analogous 
course. In this way, Walter found, in a short time, that he 
could not only speak and write the language he was learning, 
and understand it when spoken by others, but he saw himself 
enabled to read the classical authors with considerable ease, 
and with a perception of their latent beauty, which he had 
never before been conscious of. 

In this way twelve months flew by most delightfully with 
Walter. -Yet he began to feel impatient for change ; not that 
he experienced any lassitude or weariness of feeling in his 
present delightful intercourse, but because a new desire, or 
rather an old one, brightened up in his breast. Among the 
books that he had been reading, were entertaining travels. 
They had awakened within him increased enthusiasm to see 
the world, to get information at first hand, to quaff at the 
fountain of the stream, to know man as he is, to commune with 
majestic nature ; in fine, to rise to the full stature of manhood. 

Walter communicated his new project to the family at the 
tea-table. Little Adelgitha heard it with tearful silence, but 
her infantile bosom swelled visibly with emotions of regret. 
Mrs. Radesky was charmed with the romance of the enter- 
prise, but she expressed unfeigned sorrow at the thought of 
losing the society of Mr. Carl, and of being deprived of the 
opportunity of giving further proof of their gratitude for the 
inestimable favor he had done them. Her attachment to 
Walter was sincere. The young man’s frank and genial nature 
had won greatly upon her womanly susceptibilities, and it cost 


836 


THE FISHER BOY. 


her a deep inward struggle to reconcile herself to the thought 
of parting with him, perhaps never to meet again. Count 
Radesky was too much a man of the world, not to perceive 
that it would be vain to think of retaining the young man for 
any length of time in his family. Therefore, he entered into 
Walter’s ]wojects for the journey with warm interest. He 
possessed, himself, an enthusiasm for travelling ; and his ex- 
tensive information enabled him to be of essential aid in advis- 
ing Walter upon his projected plans. A fine sense of deli- 
cacy hindered the Count showing too much regret at losing the 
young man’s society, while his whole treatment of Walter had 
been such as to assure how cordial had been the happiness of 
entertaining him, and how hard must be the sorrow of having 
him leave. 

We will not attempt to describe the parting scene. Walter 
took his leave on horseback, well provided with the means of 
an extensive tour in the United States. It was only after a 
few days that he felt in its full force the loneliness of his feel- 
ings, and how much he had lost in leaving a family endeared 
to him with all the ties of affection and kindness. 


CHAPTEK XXIV. 


“ Between the acting of a dreadful tiling, 

And the first motion, all the interim is 
Like a phantasma, or a liideous dream ; 

The genius and the mortal instruments 
. Are then in council ; and the state of a man. 

Like to a little kingdom, suffers then 
The nature of an insurrection.” 

Shakspeare’s Julius Caesar. 

Walter awoke from a deep slumber by a noise as of shuf- 
fling of feet over his head, and a rustling sound, as of persons 
in violent struggle for mastery. This was followed by a sup- 
pressed shriek and a heavy, deadened plunge, as of a log 
thrown into the sea. lie was greatly startled ; and half rising 
in his berth, he listened with dread for further revelations. 
Nothing more coming to his excited ear, he threw on hastily 
his clothes, and rushed upon deck ; but the splendid ship that 
was bearing him majestically over the bosom of the vast ocean, 
w^as holding her wonted way amid the solemn beauty of night, 
and everything upon deck was regular and quiet. Conclud- 
ing that he must have been mistaken in his apprehensions, he 
retired again to his berth, and soon fell asleep. 

But at the change of watch in the morning, the startling 
intelligence came to light that the chief mate wa,s missing. 
The alarm circulated like a flash of lightning throughout the 
ship, and the greatest consternation prevailed on board. All 
sorts of conjectures were made as to the cause of his mysteri- 
ous disappearance, but the sailors with great unanimity per- 
sisted in the belief that he must have slipped overboard 
accidentally in his watch, and they mentioned one and 
another circumstance to corroborate their opinions. 

20 ( 3 ^ 7 ) 


338 


THE FISHER BOY.. 


Days elapsed, and no clue had been gained as to the fate 
of the missing man. So sudden a loss was well calculated to 
send a shock to every bosom, and the vacancy of so important 
trust as that of first officer, was severely felt. Yet the captain 
promptly assumed the duties of the departed mate, and the 
discipline and routine of the ship’s duti ^s went on, without 
apparent interruption. 

But Walter could not reconcile to himself the mystery of 
the affair. He gradually came to the belief that there must 
have been foul play connected with the loss of the mate. The 
noise that startled him on the evening already mentioned, was 
capable of such a construction. And he now brought to mind 
other incidents and remarks which at the time passed for 
nothing in his mind, but now, in connection with the great 
event, had a palpable meaning in their bearing. Then the 
crew were unusually silent, secretive, were frequently together 
in private consultation, and bore all the time in their counte- 
nances a sinister expression, as if some dreadful deed hung over 
their souls. At last, Walter could not resist the firm convic- 
tion that a dreadful conspiracy had been concocted by the 
crew, and that the disappearance of the mate was the first 
scene in the awful tragedy. 

He fancied, as he watched narrowly everything ai'ound him, 
that the after guard had an impression similar to his own. 
The captain looked concerned, and never ventured forward of 
midship. The wife of the captain, a beautiful young woman, 
who was making her bridal tour with the noble man of her 
choice, seemed pale and apprehensive, whenever she appeared 
upon deck. The other people aft, in one way or another, 
showed a disturbed mind. 

Walter wished much to communicate his suspicions to the 
captain, or, at least, to some one of the cabin people ; but the 
etiquette of ship life, and other circumstances, gave him no 


A MUTINY. 


339 


opportunity. * But he thought well upon the posture of things 
around him, took his part with deliberation, and prepared his 
mind for any emergency. 

Matters went on in this way, until late one night when the 
wind was blowing briskly, he was alarmed by a sudden noise 
in a distant part of the ship. He was prepared, and sprang 
with a single leap out of the gangway, which he closed and 
bolted as he passed through. As he reached the midships of 
the ship, the appalling spectacle struck his excited gaze, of the 
captain struggling with deathless energy in the grasp of two 
brawny sailors, who, after! much effort, succeeded in throwing 
him into the sea. The sympathy and indignation of his 
nature was aroused to the highest pitch. Springing to the 
cabin gangway, he met there the second mate, steward and 
stewardess, preceded by the wife of the captain, all full armed. 
Walter seized the pistol from the trembling hand of the latter, 
and fired upon the foremost of the gang, who were approach- 
ing with apparently murderous intent. lie fell disabled, but 
not dead. The sailor takes fright at the sight of fire-arms. 
The remainder of the sailors perceiving with what they had 
to contend, retreated hastily forward, intending there, it is pre- 
sumed, to be joined by the watch below, and all to make a 
determined stand. But finding the watch below secured there 
by the precaution of Walter, and themselves pushed to the 
last extremity by the heroism and activity of their pursuers,^, 
they surrendered, asking for quarter. All were secured by 
the second mate, and placed firmly in irons. The watch 
were imprisoned with more difficulty. 

On investigation, it came to light, as Walter had suspected, 
that a bloody conspiracy had been hatched by the remorseless 
crew. Their plan was to make way with all the after-guard, 
except the wife of the captain, whom they would retain. 
Walter was to be saved under strict surveillance, as their 


340 


THE FISHER BOY. 


navigator, until they reached their destination, when he, too, 
was to be sacrificed, upon the maxim of security that “ dead 
men tell no tales.” 

With deep feelings of gratitude, for what seemed an almost 
miraculous deliverance, they were yet in a plight that can be 
better imagined than described. They were hundreds of 
miles from any land. The mulatto steward and stewardess 
could not be much depended upon beyond their own sphere. 
Indeed, they knew actually nothing of the ordinary duties of 
working ship. The wife, flooded with distress for the loss of 
her husband, was little less than deranged, in view of her 
bereavement. The only two, then, able in any degree to cope 
with the difficulties of their situation, were the second mate 
and Walter. But the former was a host in himself. Of great 
physical force, a thorough seaman, brave, cool, and sagacious, 
he united the resources of many inferior men. But he knew 
nothing of navigation, and that essential duty fell upon 
Walter. 

Releasing two or three of the most trustful of the fettered 
mutineers, on promise of faithfulness to duty, they were 
enabled, by keeping the ship under short sail, to do pretty 
well. But the duties proved too severe for now Captain Carl. 
He fell sick of brain fever, and for some time, his life hung upon 
a trembling balance. In this dreadful crisis the young widow 
performed a part, that while it showed to what sublime height 
of heroism the soul may rise, added a gem to the full crown 
of the virtues of noble woman. ' She assumed the place of 
nurse and physician to Walter, and no affectionate sister at 
the best home, could have been more kind or devoted. In 
addition, she stood a watch, relieving the mate at times from 
his post on deck, kept the reckoning of the ship, which she 
had learned from' her husband, and encouraged and sustaim'd 


A COLLISION AT SEA. 


341 


the drooping spirits of all, by her cheerful and bland expres- 
sions. 

One dark, stormy night, the wind blowing heavily, Walter 
was aroused from a drowsy slumber, by an awful shock and 
crash that fell upon his startled nerves like a clap of thunder. 
Although still very weak, excitement filled him with energy, 
and he gained the deck in a moment. A huge ship had just 
become disengaged from the violent collision which had just 
happened between it and his own ship, and the other, now like 
a dark cloud, was disappearing to the leeward. No one on 
board answered to his repeated call of distress, and it was 
plain that his ship was going inevitably to the bottom of tlie 
ocean, her decks being already on a level with the water. In 
so awful a crisis, there was but one alternative, and the merest 
instinct suggested the desperate part that he must tal^e. 
Launching an empty hencoop, which, with much difficulty he 
disengaged from the place where it was lashed ; he hurriedly 
jumped astride of it, and made all possible haste to push a 
little distance away, lest he should be swallowed up in the 
vortex that would be caused by the sinking vessel. 

Daylight revealed to him in burning colors, his wretched 
condition. His own ship had sunk to rise no more. No 
other vessel upon the wide watery waste could be descried, 
to gladden his straining vision. The storm had slightly 
abated, but the sky still yawned, in lurid hate, and the 
ocean around dashed in angry surges. There he clung with 
difficulty to the vestige of plank that barely separated him 
from dread eternity ; weak in body, crushed in spirits, Avith no 
rescuing arm above, and with but the fathomless caves, filled 
with devouring sea-monsters below him. How awful, how 
appalling the moment ! Death, relentless death, already 
stared him face to face, and soon, very S' on, he must answer 
the dreadful summons, and be hurried t( that bourne whence 

29 * 


342 


THE FISHER BOY. 


no traveller returns. As he sat alone upon the world of 
waters, he had time for bitter reflection. What a vicissitude of 
fate had not been his. The past arose in distinct, vivid out 
line, the future was shadowed in vague, fearful imaginings. 
How insignificant now appeared to him life, and all its vain 
objects of sense; how momentous arose to his vision the 
sacred interests of eteimitj! Thus day and night passed, 
bringing no human rescue. The cravings of hunger at length 
stole upon him, and the parchings of thirst broke oiit upon 
his vitals. An excruciating fever set into his veins, and deli- 
rium seized his brain. Amid the phantoms of his excited 
fancy, groaning tables tantalized his longing taste, and running 
streams lured him treacherously to their bosom. 

The physical vanquished, the spiritual battle commenced. 
All lands of visions haunted his burning brain. Now, his 
dear mother, in deep, affectionate tones called him to her, but 
as he rushed toward her arms, she vanished from his sight. 
Now, the sweet face of Angeline pressed close to his, as if she 
would rest her fair head upon his bosom ; but as he would fain 
clasp her beloved form, she eluded his grasp, and he found 
himself rigidly holding the sides of his coop. Then he was 
transported to the delightful family of the Count E-adesky, at 
one time toying with the silken curls of the beautiful Adel- 
githa, at another, listening to the spiritual tones of Madame 
Radesky, but the next moment he would awake from his 
trance, and find the pitiless elements but mocking his delu- 
sions. 

One night he was continually visited by an apparition that 
resembled the strange being that had hung around his path- 
way so mysteriously. She kept his company like some per- 
sistent death watcher. Whenever he closed his eyes, there 
would be the sami. deep, suffering face, earnest, entreating, 
pleading look, with air dishevelled, and eye wandering with 
frenzy, ^ 


ALONE ON THE OCEAN. 


343 


At length, feeling conscious of departing energies, he care- 
fully lashed himself to his little bark of refuge by a rope that 
had remained attached to it by chance, and resigned himself 
to the future of his fate. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


Human life is checkered at the best, 

And joy and grief alternately preside, 

The good and evil demon of mankind. 

^ Tracy’s Periander.” 

When Walter awoke to consciousness, lie found himself in 
a comfortable room, with an amiable attendant at his side, 
administering to his every need. He was at first too weak to 
speak, but on gaining force he eagerly inquired where he was, 
and how he came there. He was told that he was on board 
a ship coming from South America, and bound to Antwerp, in 
Europe. That one day, the look-out descried something 
upon the water, very distant to the leeward, whereupon the 
captain, who made it a rule to pass nothing upon the sea with- 
out actually determining what it is, had a boat despatched, 
which returned with Walter, apparently dead ; but by assiduous 
care, and the devotion of a skilful physician on board, he had 
been restored to life. Walter felt a glow of gratitude at this 
rehearsal. “After all,” ejaculated he to himself, “how humane 
and noble is the human he^rt ! ” 

Days passed, and he continued to gather in strength. One 
day, on descrying land upon the Old World, it being very 
pleasant weather, Walter was taken upon deck for the first 
time, to participate in the general joy. As he was about 
being again removed below, a lady from among the passengers 
passed him, and their eyes met. He felt sure of having seen 
the face before, but where, he could not tell. The lady seemed 
affected by the same embarrassment ; but after a moment’s 
hesitation, she passed on, and descended to the cabin. 

Walter not feeling so well from the exertion of being taken 
( 344 ) 


AN AGREEABLE SURPRISE. 


345 


to the deck, he did not again leave his room until the ship 
arrived at Antwerp. Here he was taken to the home of the 
American Consul at that port, where he received every kind- 
ness the most exacting nature could desire. 

It would be impossible to describe his emotions upon step- 
ping foot upon the Old World ; and as he sauntered through 
the quaint old city, with its many thrilling mementoes of a 
former time, his feelings were excited to the verge of enthu- 
siasm. One day, standing in company with Miss Belmont, 
the daughter of the American Consul, in the Square, admir- 
ing the noble pile of the Antwerp Cathedral, a carriage drove 
slowly past them, and stopped. The footman descended, 
approached Walter, and deferentially begged the favor of his 
address. It was granted. Turning toward the carriage, the 
middle piece of which was down, he perceived that one of the 
inmates was a lady, and he recognized her as the one whom 
he met on board the ship. The lady returned somewhat 
warmly his salutation, and the carriage rolled on. 

The next day, a gentleman elegantly attired rang the bell 
of his room, and politely handed Walter a package. On open- 
ing the unexpected parcel, he was most agreeably surprised to' 
find therein a beautiful picture very richly set, which he had 
no difficulty in recognizing as a miniature portrait of the lady 
whom he met the day before upon the Square in front of the 
grand Antwerp Cathedral. There was, besides, a handsome 
sum of money in the package, in gold, and a bill of exchange 
for a much larger amount upon a well known Banking House 
in London. Accompanying these treasures, was a gracefully 
turned and modest letter, expressive of unfeigned gratitude 
toward Walter, for having once so nobly risked his own life to 
save hers ; a regret that circumstances did not permit her to 
ask the privilege of seeing him in person, and begging if she 
might be permitted to ask his acceptance of the accompanying 


346 


THE FISHER BOY., 


gifts as a slight token of her heartfelt esteem, until she should 
have it in her power to make some more befitting return. 
She added in a postscript, that she was to leave the city that 
very hour. 

For a moment Walter remained in a state of amazement 
at this new turn in the web of his fate ; but presently the 
truth gleamed upon his mind. She must be the identical lady 
whom he rescued from the boiling surf, at the Point of Cape 
Malabar, and the very same whose face struck him so cog- 
nizable once on board the ship that bore them in company to 
Europe. But why did she not see him and make herself 
known at once. Another mystery. How romantic it all 
seemed ! Would marvels never cease in his checkered life ? 
But he had become too used to strange vicissitudes to be long 
excited. He laid by the gifts with emotions of tranquil 
delight, trustful that the future would reveal all to light. 

Previously to the incident just narrated, Walter had com- 
pleted his arrangements to make a partial tour through 
Europe. Having at his disposal but very limited pecuniary 
means, he had expected to be under the necessity of making 
his journey on foot, and living by the way in the most scanty 
manner .possible. But so intense was his desire to visit the 
spots and feast his greedy eyes upon the scenes that were so 
endeared to his memory and fancy, that going a-foot he did not 
account a very great hardship. Indeed, he would have 
crawled upon his hands and knees, he thought, had there been 
left no other way to accomplish his wishes. It was not the 
delectable care and genial comfort of travelling that he sought, 
but to administer to the cravings of a spirit of truthfulness for 
nnture, and to gratify a chivalrous love for those glowing asso- 
ciations enkindled by reading and study. Then, what treas- 
ures of nature, what beauties of art, what glorious associations 
of history was he not soon to possess ! All the hardships he 


TRAVELLING ON HORSEBACK. 


347 


had undergone, all the sufferings he had experienced were as 
nothing by the side of the well-filled cup of happiness that he 
was soon to quaff to his fill. Indeed, his trials only prepared 
his mind for a keener relish of what was in store for him. 

In this delightful mood, with the full means at his command 
to choose his mode of travelling, he set off, after taking a 
grateful leave of the family of the Consul, and the many 
friends he had made, during his short stay in this interesting 
old city of Flanders. Wliile we will leave the young man to 
enjoy unmolested the pleasures of his route, we will turn to 
other scenes in the thread of our story. 

Walter, after leaving the charming family of Count Radesky, 
spent full two years in travelling in his native country. This 
journey was made for the most part on horseback, that very 
exliilarating and mind-tonic mode of travelling. This was at 
a period when public conveyances were less numerous than at 
the present time, apd in the course of his tour, he met with 
much hardship, and not a few adventures; these seemed, 
however, but to impart robustness of limb, and vigor of mind. 
He visited in the course of his journey, almost every place of 
note or of interest that he could possibly discover from Maine 
to Texas, and from the Atlantic to the Rocky Mountains. 
He thus drank deep at the fount of Nature in the grandeur 
of our country, and had his perception enlarged of the ex- 
haustless wonders in our glorious and broad domain. It 
served, too, as an excellent preparation for profitably travel- 
ling abroad, and enabled him to form the acquaintance of 
distinguished intelligent men in Europe, upon the broad prin- 
ciple of mutual advantage, for the truthful and reliable mfor- 
mation he could impart of his own country. 

But he began to be weary of journeying at home, and the • 
time ripened for him to transfer his interest to the other con- 
tinent. The Count Radesky, in his unbounded generosity, had 


348 


THE FISHER BOY. 


furnished him ample means to complete his tour upon both 
continents, and gave him besides letters of credit upon his 
banker in Philadelphia. But what with sending at times 
small sums to his beloved mother, and of relieving frequent 
cases of distress that he met with on his way, he found him- 
self at the end of the two years almost quite destitute of 
funds. His sense of justice would not allow him to tax fur- 
ther the generosity of the Count Radesky, and impressed with 
the belief that a humble mode of travelling possessed many 
advantages in enabling the traveller to see life from an intel- 
ligent stand point, he shipped in a large bark lying at Phila- 
delphia, bound to India, by the way of the Sandwich Islands. 
The passage out was all that could be wished. The captain’s 
youthful bride imparted lustre to the sentiment of ship life. 
There were, besides, several missionaries, male and female, 
those sublime spirits in the cause of religious devotion. The 
weather was fine, balmy and golden. Many diversions of a 
healthful and elevating kind were devised, in which the sailors 
often were invited to participate. And Walter thought he 
had hardly ever enjoyed himself much more pleasantly. 
But on their return, the sad scenes occurred which we have 
briefly described, and wliich gave so sudden a turn to the 
course of Walter’s life. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


** Death is the privilege of human nature ; 

And life without it were not worth our taking. 

Thither the poor, the prisoner, and the mourner 
riy for relief, and lay their burdens down.” 

Rowe's Fair Penitent. 

A DEEP cloud of gloom hung over the paternal mansion, 
A noble spirit had passed from earth. Mrs. Carl had left this 
Buffering vale of life, to find a mansion where sorrows are no 
more. 

! The bereaved woman had struggled along in her daily path, 
with a tranquil brow, while cheered with the solace of her 
eon’s remembrance, and the hope of his final return; but when 
the dreadful intelligence came of his shipwreck and probable 
loss, her strong spirit gave way, and she continued waning 
until merciful death clasped her to himself. Her last moments 
were peaceful, like those of a grand soul, and she sank gently 
into eternity like the quiet setting of departing day. 

In the same upper chamber where we first met her with 
Walter, lies now stretched her pallid corse, with a face still 

* serene in the calm repose of death. The room is partially 
darkened, here and there hang the emblems of mourning, and 

* the few who enter tread softly, as if their feathery steps could 
disturb that spirit now hushed forever, which had wrestled so 
bravely with the storms of life. 

The funeral day arrives. It is a sweet autumnal afternoon, 
and the very anniversary of Walter’s departure from home. 
The fallen leaf from the withered foliage, and the crimson 

glories of the forest, seem in touching consonance with the sol 

30 ( 349 ) 


350 


THE FISHER BOY. 


emn scene. A holy, pensive calm pervades nature without, 
as if heaven had lain the hush of her hand upon earth in 
sympathy with the quiet entrance of a prized soul to her joy- 
ful abodes. 

Relatives, friends and neighbors fill the stricken mansion, 
as if moved with a common sentiment of condolence, and 
many stand without in the attitude of mournful grief. The 
services are fervent, impressive. All hearts are touched, hut 
there is no need of gifted words to awaken latent sympathies. 
There are lives more eloquent than human tongues, lives so 
embalmed in the common heart, that the tiniest finger laid 
upon their full stringed soul-harp, touches a chord that thrills 
with keenest vibration through every fraternal bosom. 

The services over, the long procession moved with solemn 
march to the grave-side. There the irrepressive sobs attest 
the depth of the common grief. The unrelenting earth closes 
over her who in life had no foe, in death will be long remem- 
bered, yet in whose pathway trial and suffering ever lay in thick- 
est gloom. How unequal seem the fortunes of life ! The last 
sod is laid upon the round grave, and the remaining company 
sadly retire. — No, there is one that lingers long behind. She 
remains fixed to the spot, as if rooted there by a sentiment 
beyond her power to control. She is a comely maiden, ex- 
quisitely attired in deep black, with a face of classical beauty 
of form, and of great depth of expression. Who may she be ? 

“ It was a most affecting occasion, that we have witnessed 
this afternoon,” observed sadly Miss Angeline Readcliff to Mr. 
Charles Raymond, two of the company who were wending 
their way homeward from the funeral just described. 

“ It was, indeed,” replied the other. What a pity that her 
son should have caused her so much grief.” 

“ To what do you now refer, Mr. Raymond ? ” asked An- 
geline with an earnest look of inquiry. 


FALSE REPORTS. 


351 


"Why, they say,” replied Charles, "that her son, upon 
'Whom she doted very fondly, has fallen into bad ways, and the 
news of it broke her heart.” 

" No, you mistake,” interrupted Angeline, with energy. — 
“It was the intelligence of his death, that caused her last 
illness.” 

“ Ah, yes,” replied Charles, “ that may have had something 
to do with it, too, but it was the report of his becoming dissi- 
pated that gave the fatal stab.” 

“ Who says so,” demanded Angeline, with evident feeling. 
“ Who dares thus stab the peace of an honorable family — ruin 
a fair name ? I will not believe it.” 

“ Perhaps you are a little partial,” remarked Charles, in a 
caressing voice ; “ If I remember rightly, you were once very 
intimate friends.” 

“Yes, Mr. Raymond,” answered Angeline with spirit, 
“ Walter Carl and myself were once friends, lovers, if you 
please. It was a pure youthful sentiment, nothing more. My 
friends opposed the continuance of his addresses. I yielded at 
once to their better judgments. He submitted with manly 
grace, and we parted. We are nothing to each other further, 
but from common justice I will not tamely submit to see him 
vilely slandered. His character is as incorruptible as truth 
itself. I beg, Mr. Raymond, that you will not ever again pain 
me with so base an allusion.” 

Charles felt stung with remorse for having wounded the 
feelings of the girl of aU others the dearest to his heart. 

“ Pardon me,” he said, “ I did not wish to be unjust, I was 
but repeating what I had heard, which I confess is a very 
unsafe rule.” 

“ But who was that young lady dressed in black, so attentive 
to the family ?” he asked, very willing to turn the subject. 

“ That is Miss Isadore Leeland,” answered mildly Angeline, 


352 


THE FISHER EOT. 


a little repentant for having betrayed so much feeling. “ She 
has been very attentive during the entire illness of Mrs. Carl. 
No daughter could have been more kind, affectionate, and de- 
voted. 

Her family became reduced from affluence to extreme pov- 
erty. I think there was some difficulty between the parents. 
At any rate there was much distress at home, and Isadore 
led a vagabondish life away from the maternal roof. In one of 
her nocturnal rambles she met with, it is said, a lady who had 
been shipwrecked upon our coast. Strange to say, an intimacy 
grew up between them, which has lasted since. The lady 
was a foreigner and is very rich. Since her father and mother 
have died, Isadore remains at home, educates the children, 
and under the auspices of her patron the family have greatly 
prospered.” 

“ Ah ! how romantic a circumstance,” observed Charles. — 
At this moment they arrived at the house of Mr. Eeadcliff, 
and bidding Angeline good afternoon, he took his leave, and 
turned homeward. 


CHAPTER XXVn. 


** And nymphs were there, whose very eyes 
Seemed almost to exhale in sighs ; 

Whose eveiy little ringlet trilled 
As if with soul and passion thrilled.” 

Mooee. 

Walter was pursuing his European Tour with delightful 
ardor. He had visited many of the principal cities and places 
of noted interest in Germany, that fatherland of the Teutonic 
heart ; had spent a dazzling month in Paris, that splendid 
world in miniature ; sojourned awhile with feelings of gushing 
freshness amid the beautiful lakes and picturesque scenes of 
Switzerland ; had crossed with glowing heart the royal Alps, 
and was now luxuriating in sunny Italy, that immortal land 
of genius. 

At every step in his route, his enthusiasm was excited and 
refreshed, either by some spot of intense historical interest, 
some noble work of art, bearing testimony to the sublime 
genius of man ; or by some grand or charming scene in nature. 
The costume, manners, political and social institutions, and 
individual traits of character, were to him matters of lively 
interest. 

Indeed, his whole course was a perpetual ovation, in which 
every object in his pathway contributed to his joy. He felt 
continually his soul to enlarge, his mental vision to expand, his 
heart to ennoble. Broader views of life, higher aims of 
achievement, more generous principles of action swelled his 
heart. Local prejudices, narrow feelings, illiberal tenets, 
melted gradually from his breast, like mist before the rising 

sun. His happiness was constant and serene, and was of that 

30 * ( 353 ) 


354 


THE FISHER BOT. 


exalted kind that leaves the soul in a strong, healthful and re- 
freshed state. 

He was made fully aware of what great advantage was his 
knowledge of French and German, by enabling him to circu- 
late freely with all classes, and to appreciate their peculiar 
character and mode of thought. He perceived that he who 
travels without an acquaintance with the language of the na 
tions he proposes to learn about, or of some language which 
will afford him a medium of communication, labors to great 
disadvantage. 

Walter was tarrying now a season at Naples, both to enjoy 
its noble bay, and to improve, under a master, his acquaintance 
with Italian, which he had begun to study with deep interest 
As a relaxation from severe application, he had the habit, af- 
ternoons, of taking a stroll amid the environs of the city, and 
yield to the musings of his mind. 

One beautiful afternoon, as he was passing a magnificent 
country seat, he applied for permission to see its attractive 
garden. The porter retired respectfully with his application, 
and in a few moments returning, opened his gates and gra- 
ciously welcomed him within the charming precints. He was 
here presented to a liveried servant, who with obsequious deli- 
cacy showed him minutely over the fascinating grounds, pro- 
fusely enriched with the beauties of nature and art. He was 
thence invited into the superb chateau itself, where a lady ap- 
proached him on his entrance, and politely offered to conduct 
him through the apartments of the stately edifice. Her in- 
telligent appearance and dignified bearing impressed Walter 
favorably, and he thankfully accepted. He thereupon followed 
his accommodating guide, and was well repaid for the time 
spent. As he went from room to room, surprise followed 
upon surprise. Here it was the curious architecture that 
seized his attention ; there the quaint decoration that attracted 


A MAGNIFICENT SCENE. 


355 


his observation. At this point the costly furnishing that he 
must stop to admire ; at that, some work of art, or relic of an- 
tiquity, that he gazed upon with deep emotion — a picture by 
some grand old master, a piece of sculpture by some immortal 
genius, or an unwieldy armor worn by some member of the 
family, in some renowned exploit. 

At length, having completed the tour of the house, Waltei 
was conducted into a small apartment, in which was a table 
spread with wine, fruit, and every luxury of the country. 

Here he was blandly invited to be seated, and partake 
freely of the refreshments before him. Pointing him to a sea*^ 
and taking another opposite to him at the table, while Walter 
was regaling himself in the pleasures of appetite, the lady 
gave a succinct account of the noble family through which the 
lordly mansion had descended for many generations. As 
Walter motioned to go, the lady gave him a pressing invita- 
tion to repeat his visit on the following evening, when he might 
be pleased to see the establishment under more flattering cir- 
cumstances. 

Punctually at the hour appointed, Walter, under an irresist- 
ible feeling of curiosity, presented himself at the gate of the 
lordly residence he had visited the day before. As he 
approached, the gate flew open, and presented the garden and 
house under the magical effect of a grand illumination. The 
fountains were playing ; and as the pearly jets gleamed in the 
streaming light, giving an illusory animation to the statuary 
just visible through the trembling foliage, he was moved with . 
feelings of novel delight. As he advanced toward the house, 
soft strains of sweet, melodious music, came floating upon the 
impregnated air ; and as he entered, hall after hall, richly fes- 
tooned, and brilliantly lighted, charmed his sight. Indeed the 
wSole scene appeared one of enchantment. 

He was presently conducted into a magnificent apartment, 


856 


THE FISHER BOY. 


in which the art of man seemed to have surpassed itself. All 
his dreams of oriental splendor were here realized. The 
architectural beauty, the richness, the splendor, the gorgeous- 
ness, disposed with the most consummate taste, made the young 
man fairly reel with bewildered delight. Upon a rich ottoman 
was reclining the most beautiful female that Walter thought 
he had ever seen. She was strictly of the Italian type of 
beauty, and it seemed that Nature and Art had vied in per- 
fecting the most lovely gem of woman. Attired richly, but in 
the most exquisite taste, there was in her manner a certain 
languishing grace, that threw over her person a species of 
fascination not easily described. 

She arose and greeted Walter with a matchless ease of 
breeding, that is the most rare and difficult attainment. Seat- 
ing herself by his side, she commenced a graceful and sus- 
tained conversation upon the attractions of Italy to the 
stranger. She spoke in the purest English, except that there 
was a slight foreign accent, that but heightened, however, the 
charm of her intonation. 

But a few moments had elapsed of this delightful tete-a-tete, 
when a low rumbling sound was heard, at the first vibration 
of which, the lady bent forward and listened with anxious 
suspense. 

At the repetition of the sound, she darted out of the room 
with alarm depicted upon her countenance. As Walter cast 
his eyes upon the garden, which was visible from the windows 
of the room, of a sudden the jetty darkness of midnight suc- 
ceeded the most brilliant illumination. Presently a man 
rushed into the room with a face haggard with anxiety, and 
seeing Walter by the arm, thrust him without explanation or 
ceremony into a closet, the door of which seemed to close 
by a spring. At once he felt himself descending down, down, 
whither he knew not ; but the sensation of dismay that seized 


A PLEASANT SURPBISE. 


357 


him sent his heart throbbing to his throat. But landing 
speedily upon a stone floor, the door of his caged box sprang 
open and revealed nought but a world of darkness around 
him. In a moment, however, he perceived an aperture of 
light, through which he barely squeezed, and scrambling along 
an embankment and through a hedge, succeeded finally in 
reaching the highway, glad to be so safely through the mys- 
terious adventure. 

The next day as Walter, walking toward the harbor, revolv- 
ing in his mind the strange incident of the preceding evening, 
his attention was diverted to a boat approaching the shore, 
that had just set out from a beautiful brig lying a little dis- 
tance off at anchor. His interest continued to increase, in 
observing the admirable discipline in the rowing, and the pre- 
cision with which she glided over the water. As the boat 
neared the shore, Walter thought the well dressed gentleman 
steering in the stern he had seen before. And as he jumped 
upon the landing, Walter, carried away with a flood of emotion, 
sprang upon th'y sailor’s neck exclaiming, “ and Mr. Marboro, 
is it you ? ” They stood locked in each other’s arms, while 
the crew stood by in amazement. 

It was, indeed, no other than Old Marl, who having come 
unexpectedly in possession of property, that was saved from 
his father’s estate, had purchased a fine brig, of which he was 
in command. His intelligence and experience had enabled 
him to take advantage of the shifting currents of commerce, 
and he had realized a large sum from his last voyage. He 
was intending, he said, to retire to America and go to sea no 
more, having become tired of roaming, and being convinced 
that a snug home, surrounded with peace and contentment was 
the nearest condition to happiness to be found here below. 

“ Then you will take to yourself a wife,” observed Walter. 

“ Who knows,” replied the sailor, shifting his quid of 


THE FISHER EOT 


%6S 

tobacco, “ if I can find the fair damsel who gave me a lift, 
one dreary night.” 

“ Ah ! who was it? ” asked Walter. 

“ Well, come on board and spend the night with me, and 
you shall have the whole story.” 

Walter accepted. ‘Old Marl,’ or now Capt. Jameson, re- 
lated to the young man, circumstantially, all that had trans- 
pired in his history since they parted. Walter, in his turn, 
detailed the incidents of his life, keeping nothing back, not 
even the adventure of the preceding evening. To this latter, 
Capt. Jameson shook his head, with a knowing smile, and 
bid the young man beware how he became fascinated with ap- 
pearances. “ But,” he remarked, “ I have some anecdotes of 
my own experience, of a similar nature to relate, which I will 
reserve to beguile the tedium of our passage home ; for we 
are bound to Boston, and I mean to take you along with me. 
You have roamed quite long enough. Go home and cheer the 
declining years of your mother ! Settle down upon some use- 
ful occupation ; and slowly, but surely, achieve a character and 
independence. 

Walter was but too glad to accept the kind proffer of his 
friend. In a few weeks they set sail, and after a favorable 
passage, arrived in Boston. The first man whom Walter met 
upon the wharf, on landing, was a neighbor of his family, 
who conveyed the heart-rending intelligence of the death of his 
beloved mother. 

He hastened home, but with a heavy heart. All the touch- 
ing traits and devotion of his mother arose to his memory, and 
nearly overpowered him with emotion. He upbraided him- 
self for staying so long from the sunshine of her presence. 

Before entering the house, he hastened to the grave-yard, 
where he knew she would be buried. Some one had erected 
a beautiful marble slab over her grave, appropriately inscribed. 


VISIT TO THE GRAVE OF A MOTHER. 


359 


and surrounded it with willows and flowers. He wept there 
long, and with the tears of true filial affection. Oh, what 
would he not give to call back that dear spirit, the mother of 
his youth. How hard that he could not have been present to 
smooth her dying pillow. 

The next day, as he approached his mother’s grave-side, he 
perceived there a female reclining over the slab in an attitude 
of sorrow. He was struck with her form and countenance. 
It seemed to him that he had seen the face before. The lady 
was tall, grjweful, and very beautiful. He would at any time 
have been interested in her appearance, but now all interest 
concentrated upon the impression she made upon his memory 
of the past. 

As Walter advanced, the young lady arose and moved qui- 
etly away. 

That night was a restless one for Walter. He could not 
command the forgetfulness of slumber, for the image of the 
young lady at his mother’s grave-side hung about his piUow ; 
but now it was no longer the sinister vision that had haunted 
so long his footsteps, but a benignant spirit, attuned to him by 
the sympathy of grief, that would nestle in his bosom. 

For weeks after, as he continued daily to visit the grave- 
yard where reposed the sacred remains of his mother, he 
would often find there the same young female. He watched 
her and studied her closely. Everything seemed to indicate 
that she was drawn to the spot by the genuine sympathy of 
grief. In that light she grew, in his eyes, inexpressibly lovely, 
and he longed to have free communion with her souL 

He could restrain himself no longer ; and one day, as he 
found her still by the side of the grave, he walked boldly up 
and accosted her. As she turned her full eyes upon his, a 
deep carnation suffusing her face, the strange image that had 


360 


THE FISHER BOY. 


SO long haunted him seemed blended in hers, and the emotion 
that seized him sent a tremor throughout his system. 

Their acquaintance, however, grew rapidly from this. He 
felt a deeper and deeper interest in her society. From her 
lips he learned all the particulars of his mother’s illness and 
death ; and they wept over the touching traits of the noble 
woman that Isadore from time to time narrated. In the end, 
the beautiful girl gave a truthful account of her family afflic- 
tions ; her own wanderings ; her following the footsteps af 
Walter, as the only way to gaze upon his loved form ; and 
a confession of her own sacred sentiments. Walter was moved, 
was touched ; and there, in the old grave-yard, over his moth- 
er’s grave, they plighted their mutual faith. 

Then it is to you, my dear Isadore, that I owe these beau- 
tiful records over my mother’s tomb.” 

“ I did, indeed, cause their erection,” replied Miss Leeland, 
‘‘but another hand than mine furnished the means.” 

“ A lady whom I once had the good fortune to assist, and 
who has since proved my greatest of benefactors.” 

“ I should be most happy to know her, then.” 

“ You may, if you will come to-morrow to my house, for 
she happens just to have arrived, and will depart soon for the 
West, where she has relatives.” 

“ But I am expecting an old friend of mine from Boston, 
to-morrow.” 

“ It matters not, bring him along. Any friend of yours 
shall be welcome.” 

The next day, Walter with his friend, Capt. Jameson, called 
at Isadore’s. The parties gazed at each other, on being intro- 
duced, with mutual surprise. After much delightful embarrass- 
ment, the whole truth broke out. The lady was the very same 
whom Walter had at first rescued from the surf, and the very 
one who had been imprisoned so long upon the beach with the 


A MARRIAGE. 


361 


Yonker; and, afterward, whom Isadore had saved from fall- 
ing into protracted illness. Little Adelgitha Radesky was her 
niece. At the time of her shipwreck, she was making her 
visit to her brother’s, and when Walter encountered her on 
board the ship that rescued him, she was returning to settle up 
her affairs preparatory to making her home in the Western 
world. She was now on her way thither, — and how fortunate 
the meeting ! 

“ Ah, what treachery have we here,” shouted Capt. Jame- 
son. I came in all weathers North, to claim my lady love, 
and make a bridal tour in my clipper brig, but here I find her 
in the arms of another. Is this the way you serve a brother 
mess-mate ? ” — addressing Walter. ' . 

The latter turned, with a gentle bow, to Isadore. 

“ O no, ” responded the latter, archly. “ A nature so gen- 
erous as yours needs kindred qualities in a companion. Let 
me commend you, my dear Capt. Jameson, to my adorable 
friend, Md’le Radesky. The latter gracefully smiled, and the 
two entered into lively conversation upon the present state of 
Poland. 

The preliminaries were soon arranged. Walter and Isadore 
were to wait a year, out of respect to the death of his mother, 
before their marriage was to be consummated. In the mean 
time, Capt. Jameson was to make one more voyage, and Md’le 
was to repair to the West, and bring her niece to witness the 
ceremony. 

Time flew swiftly. It was a joyful day at the old mansion. 
Relations, friends and neighbors were gathered in joyful con 
gratulation. Maidens and youth attired in their prettiest, and 
with exultant hopes, were present to view the ceremony 
Esq. Langdon appeared, in order to tie the hymeneal knot. At 
length there entered the room Walter and Isadore, Capt. How- 
ard Jameson and Md’le Sophie Radesky. People could not at 

31 


362 


THE FISHER BOY. 


first tell whether the latter couple were only attending com- 
panions, or had come really to experience the rosy fate of 
Walter and his bride. But the Esq. soon cleared up aU doubt 
upon that point, by tying between the gallant captain and his 
spouse, the endeared knot that knows no untying. 

The next day, the entire party, including the beautiful Ad- • 
elgitha, who was betrothed to an American gentleman, worthy 
so fair a prize, set out on a bridal tour to the seat of Count 
Radesky, in Ohio, amid the parting benedictions of friends. 

Chai’les Raymond and Angeline Readcliff were married six 
months before. 


THE END OF THE FISHER BOT. 


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